Can't Help Loving You
by Crazyfangirl23
Summary: Souffez university au. Eleven finds himself rather inappropriately attracted to Miss Oswald.
1. Chapter 1

Can't Help Loving You

Chapter 1

She had not prepared at all for what had happened. She swore it was like a miracle. As soon as she saw him, she knew. It didn't matter what came in between. It was both of them. Both of them against the world, and nothing else mattered.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Clara was tired out already, and she still had another hour to go. Rearranging the paperwork on her desk, she tried to concentrate. It was her first lesson with the 20 year olds. That was how she categorised them, by age, since she couldn't keep track of all her classes. She was also the most nervous for this class, as she was only seven years older than them. She prepared the correct literature course, setting it out neat and organised, and then they walked in, automatically taking their seats. She put on her bravest face and warmest smile, trying to create a good first impression. Everyone had filed past, a blur of students with basketball caps and beards and footballs, like university usually was. But then he did. He walked through the door and her eyes never wavered. She couldn't smile, she couldn't speak. It was like, all at once, a twanging in her gut, like an alarm call, an electricity. He had the most striking appearance, with pale skin and prominent cheekbones. He wore a white shirt and suspenders, with the classic country jeans and long, pointy shoes. His dark hair was swept over one side, dangling into his eyes, which were emeralds. Their eyes met for a moment, and then he took a seat next to a man with sticky up hair and huge sideburns. Clearing her throat and gazing amongst the crowd, she introduced herself. Keep confident, Clara, she told herself. She could manage this. Everyone managed to be more or less silent for her, which was definitely a good start by her standards. She still felt a bit shaky, what with all those eyes looking up at her expectantly, but found it was easy to connect with them. Students raised their hands, answering questions, and she noticed that this group was a lot more intelligent than the last group she had had.

Once they got to work, she collapsed into her chair, writing down her next agenda for the weeks following. She was still quite new in staff, only having been there for three months, but she had settled in more or less smoothly. She was new to this, teaching university kids, whereas she used to teach a high school. This was a lot more sophisticated, and a better fit. She looked up momentarily from her work, scanning the number of people, and her eyes caught his again. They looked up into hers thoughtfully, and she realised he was probably not looking at her intentionally. He had his pencil in between his teeth and his thoughts to another dimension, she could tell. He was definitely a dreamer by first impressions and one very different from the rest. At second sight she noticed the bright red bow tie hanging from his shirt collar. She smiled to herself. He typically looked quite traditional, maybe except the gentleman beside him, who was literally in jacket and tie. She could guess they were friends, as they kept glancing over at each other and smiling.

The bell rung, and everyone began to shuffle out of their seats and grab their bags.

'Right, thanks guys, I'll see you tomorrow, period 4.'

They rushed toward the door, the sound of swearing voices booming loud and a huge shuffle of feet. It was the end of the day, and she still had to plan her next few lessons. Then home, and she could relax. Well, relax was probably the wrong word.

••••

Dinner that night was mostly a discussion on their first English course with Miss Oswald. People had mentioned her, but they're group had never seen her before. And my, what a shock she had given them. He felt uncomfortable at the current conversation as he ate his soup mostly in silence, listening to the crude things the people around him were saying. Even his friends wouldn't leave it alone. As he looked up at them, he realised how out of place he looked.

Nine had a typical crew cut and northern accent that made him look and seem tough, which he was, but everyone knew he was also very loveable. He had a big grin but a hard stony stare anyone could tell was his disappointment or sadness. He loved black, which he wore in every waking hour. He had a big thing for leather jackets and the only variation would be the deep purple or army green tops he'd wear underneath.

Ten loved formal wear, suits and ties, the whole three piece suit with a long brown trench coat. Sometimes he'd wear ties even now because he claimed they were 'classy.' But normally he'd wear matching jeans and t-shirt, with ridiculous sand shoes. He had sticky up hair that girls couldn't resist and a smile that implied his cheeky and cheerful demeanour. He was quite the ringleader of the group; yet somehow the most sensitive, in which he mostly tried to hide.

Now, Twelve was a right character. The full on rock god of university. He sung, he played the guitar like a freaking wizard, and wore tight plaid pants. He was the guy the girls swooned over. He had angry, bushy eyebrows that were visible behind his black shades he constantly wore wherever he went. His Scottish accent was thick and his hair was wild brown curls that many liked to ruffle. His theme was mostly red and black jackets, with a ripped holey jumper or rock band t-shirt underneath. He was the one who swore the most, and the one to sort people out cursively if they were doing something wrong, accompanied by an intense stare.

Eleven looked down at himself, his fetish for bow ties, fezzes and suspenders blatant. He often wondered how they could be his friends.

'I'd hit that.' Nine stated, the wide grin on his face.

'I'd second that,' Twelve replied, 'she's fit.'

Eleven snorted, looking up into Twelve's shades. 'You already have a string of girls on your arm, you don't need another.'

'Yeah but she's a woman. Woman are sexier. Girls can't fuck properly.'

'Wow, thanks for that enlightening, stereotypical, abstract view, Twelve. You're what people call 'ladykillers'.'

'I am not.'

Snorting again into his soup, he actually thought about it, and she was pretty. She was, almost, inhumanly beautiful. He could also understand why people would fantasise her in that way, but he was much more interested in how her dimple creased when she smiled and the way her hair fell perfectly apart. Was he being cheesy? He often couldn't tell.

'What 'bout you, Ten?' Twelve asked with a mouthful of potatoes.

'I don't know, I think I'm in love with Rose.' He said, staring off into the distance and threading his hands through his spiky hair.

'Aww, love? You love her, do you? You Love her?' Nine nudged him.

He smiled, still staring.

'Yeah, yeah I think I do.'

'So, no Oswald for you.'

Twelve reached over, smirking, 'that's alright, me and Nine can share her.'

Eleven shook his head, 'she's not a thing, she is a human. And even if she even considered it, the last person she'd pick was you.'

'Why?'

'Because you're rude and you have no manners.' He laughed. Twelve raised his angry eyebrows.

'Aw, do you want her?' Nine teased, 'do you want her to be you're lady friend?'

'No, course not. I'll finish my degree, go to...I don't know, Australia and make little Australian babies.'

'Challenge before you make you're...what? Australian babies...(which is way random, mate), we are gonna get you laid before we leave.'

'I'm not gonna get laid, Ten. I think it's clear no one would want me.'

'How did it work for us, then? If we can do it, you can do it.'

'Because,' he explained, his hands waving about demonstratively, 'you play an instrument, you have natural charm, and you are a badass. I'm just a guy who likes bow ties.'

'Come on, I bet you you'll get someone by the end of term. Bet you.' Nine challenged.

He laughed, 'okay then.'

'Do you think she'd fall for this?' Twelve joked, pointing to himself.

'Who, Miss Oswald? Not a chance.'

'Can we stop talking about her?' Eleven said irritably. They all raised their eyebrows, deliberately mocking him. He laughed. He was also the guy with invisible eyebrows.

As they all made their way up to their dorm, he couldn't help but think of Miss Oswald again. She was certainly very attractive, and it had him in shock when her huge, brown eyes turned directly to him. He felt under pressure from them, like he was melting into a pool of nothing on the floor. Apparently she now had that affect on him. It made him nervous. Collapsing onto his bed, he finally had to admit it. He would definitely, definitely hit that.

•••••

Classes the next day were a lot more calmer, smoother. She could tell she was making progress. As bad as it sounded, she still hadn't cast the image of him from her mind. She knew that it was so very, very wrong, but she often had to restrain herself from thinking about him during other classes. With guilty conscience, she realised she had been anticipating his class all day. She hoped she wasn't getting too carried away. She was his teacher, after all.

Clara set them all work, telling them that she would evaluate it before class ended. One by one, students made their way up to her desk and she marked each paper, talking about pro's, con's and all manner of everything grammar related. Then he came up to her desk with an odd saunter, and she smiled politely at him as he handed his paper to him. Marking it, she noticed he was wearing tight fitting trousers and a waistcoat, with yet another bow tie. He held a red fez, turning it round and round in his hands.

'Very good,' she told him, giving back his paper, 'and you're name is, remind me...'

'Uh, John. John Smith. But don't call me that. Everyone calls me Eleven.'

'Eleven?' She raised her eyebrows.

He nodded, walking nervously away. She decided it suited him better, so that's what she called him from then on. Another hour gone, just as fast as the rest of them. Soon it would be her fourth month in the job. Making her way to the canteen for lunch she noticed stares following her. Not many people knew her, since she was new and it was a big place. Plus, she only taught four classes. Nervously grabbing lunch and setting back to her classroom she could see Eleven looking at her. Too embarrassed to look back, she walked away.

••••

Eleven didn't know what hit him. He really didn't. It was like she had cast a spell and now he couldn't concentrate in any of his classes. He would find himself day dreaming about her and as the days wore on it only got worse. He greatly looked forward to English now, something which was usually a challenge. Everyone else, however had stopped talking about her as she was 'old news' but he still seemed to find her attractive. It wasn't just her appearance either; she held a certain wisdom and charm, an easy-going quality. A person very open and very easy to get on with, who would not just entertain you, but entertain you into the lesson. He didn't know how she did it. He discussed it with his friends and they had to agree. Even their marks had gone up from the short period of time in which she had been teaching him. His embarrassment, however, came about one afternoon when he asked her for help on something. Explaining it to her, she had leant over his desk, and he had turned a hilarious bright red. Trying to hide it, but irrevocably failing, he blamed it on the cold he had caught. And then his view fell almost accidentally to her chest, which he could see perfect view of. Leaning back upwards, and walking away, he could feel blood rushing downwards, and he cursed silently. Struggling to get back under control he thankfully remembered it was the last lesson of the day. After the bell, he went straight up to his dorm, not waiting for anyone. And it was there he realised he had developed a deep infatuation with his English teacher. Shit.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The day after he took it too far, even for his standards. He planned to get a detention, or some sort of after school revision, so he could see extra of her. He felt helpless, stupidly pathetic. He was a 20 year old man for gods sake, she was probably way older than him, although definitely not by much, she couldn't be older than thirty. He couldn't tell anyone this, not his friends, not anyone. And he knew he had to eventually get over it, because it was very inappropriate. But for now, he let him indulge himself in her charm. Every day he'd try get the best seat at the front, so he could see her clearer, although he knew not to call her over for help, as it would only result in another embarrassing situation where he would have to cross his legs for an hour. Plus, it wasn't even the end of the day yet, so it would be hard to conceal if he was to go round uni with it. She shuffled past his row, his breath drawing in sharply. Twelve leaned round behind him, tapping his shoulder.

'You alright, mate?'

'Fine.'

He carried on with his writing, wholly concentrating until she swept past him again. He looked momentarily up at her, as she turned toward her desk. She caught his eye, and they stared at each other. There was a force between them, he could feel it. An orbital chemistry like magnets, opposites attracting. It was unnatural to hold her gaze for that long, especially as a teacher, but no one else noticed. She didn't look away, and his heart thumped a little louder inside his chest. Finally, it was actually the bell that interrupted them, of all things. As soon as it rang, her head turned sharply, pretending nothing had happened, to scan the rest with her soft, brown eyes. Blinking her long eyelashes he saw the light reflect inside her pupils, and he swore he never saw anything as divine as her. Grabbing his bag absent-mindedly, he realised most of the class were already in the corridors. He made his way up to her, realising just then how small she was and how he seemed to tower over her.

'I have a detention here, I think, after hours, for being late to first lesson. Teacher said to take it here, if that's okay.' He said, softly.

She bent over her desk to grab her papers and he swallowed, ominously diverting her eyes.

'Uh, I won't be in here for long, but that should be fine.' She seemed to watch his hair drape low into the frame of his face, and he adjusted the strap on his bag.

'Thanks.'

Turning his back and out of the room, he couldn't hide a smile. He was such a young, childish, idiot. He caught up with Nine, Ten and Twelve with a jubilance in his face and a sparkle in his eyes.

••••

'Thanks.' She said, receiving the cup of well needed tea from the teacher. Sipping it gently, her eyes slipped to him, sitting right in front of her. His posture relaxed, an arm resting loosely behind his chair and his legs spread out in front of him, he was staring out the window thoughtfully.

'Do you like English, Eleven?' She asked, breaking the silence. Green eyes turning to her, he looked at her as if he thought it a miracle she could speak.

'Yeah, it's good. Certainly better than other subjects. Not as brilliant at it than I would like to be, though.'

She took a sip from her tea again, analysing his tone of voice, how it was so very calm and collected. He spoke wonderfully, far better speech than some other people. Even the teachers.

'Well, if there's something I can do to help you get better at it, just let me know. But I have been very satisfied with you're work so far. You have a very creative mind.'

His hands clenched and unclenched rhythmically against the table, and he smiled at her.

'I will do. But, uhm, if it's okay, could you just check this for me?' He stumbled out of his chair and over to her desk cautiously.

'It's the homework. I didn't really understand part b of question four.'

Skimming her eyes over it, she marked it for him.

'It's basically saying, how did the author embed themes of power and how did this relate to his poem about love. You should just write a comparison.'

He nodded, his hand reaching out toward the paper, and brushing hers simultaneously. They exchanged a glance at the contact, and then he continued.

'But how did power come into play with it?' He coughed.

She smiled. 'Come here.' Beckoning him, he advanced to the inside of her desk, positioning himself right behind her chair. She was conscious of that fact, that he was standing just an inch from her. She turned to him, explaining the basis of his question, trying to keep her breathing to a normal pace. Every time she looked up at him it caused a jolt down her spine, and she pointed to a scrawled word on his work. Leaning over to see it clearer, she could feel his breath against her neck, his body less than a centimetre from hers. This was too close. If a teacher happened to walk in...

Sliding forward in her chair before the situation escalated, she hurriedly explained the rest and told him to sit back down. From then, she corrected essays and went on her computer, if only a distraction from his expectant face looking up at her. But it conclusively became too much for her, and she turned back round to him. He was reading the red ink she had left on his paper, and noticed it was drawing to dark outside. She knew his time was up, but selfishly didn't tell him this.

'Would you like help on that?' She asked. It was true, some students in the class needed much more tuition than he did, and as a teacher, she was committed and required to helping everyone out. But it couldn't have just been her foolish wishful thinking, in that he must have felt the same thing too? Because she felt like it was a good excuse to see more of him, whilst also boosting up his grade. She waited for his answer with anticipated anxiety, and turned her eyes to her computer.

'Sure, I'd appreciate that. I think I could use the help. I don't do well in tests.'

'Okay then, uhmm, what about same time every week? I have to fit in other things you see, schedule is always busy-'

'No, no that's fine.'

She nodded affirmative, then mimed checking her watch.

'You can go now. I'll see you in class tomorrow, Eleven.'

As he strode away, she thought she heard something of a 'hopefully' in response and her heart fluttered. Maybe it was just the feeling of finding someone new to think about, and not just the stresses of home and work. And, if it was possible, she was sure that from the few weeks she had been teaching him, her life had brightened up a bit more.

••••

Eleven shuffled up the stairs to his room, where Nine and Ten were already there, discussing something whilst playing with a pack of cards. He dumped his bag beside it and sprawled onto his own bed, watching them.

'Where were you?' Ten asked.

'Detention.'

'With who?'

It took him a while to form a coherent answer.

'Miss Oswald.'

Nine raised his eyebrows but said nothing in comment. He reckoned he was only just a slightly bit jealous.

'Where's Twelve?'

'I don't know, took his guitar with him so probably serenading some girl.'

At that point he burst in, arms akimbo and his guitar strung round him.

'Look who's fucking here!' He exclaimed.

'You are.' Ten replied dryly.

'No,' he boomed in his thick Scot accent, 'you.' He pointed to Eleven, who smiled at his expression. Twelve could be very cynically funny sometimes, if a little theatrical.

'Yes, me,' he replied, as Twelve jumped into his bed, 'detention with Miss Oswald.'

'Ooh, get on the wrong side of her?' He asked.

'No, just had it held in her room?'

'Didja fuck her?'

'Uhh, let me think...no.'

He chuckled, leaned back on his bed and started to strum a few chords, filling up the silence. Ten and Nine had just finished their card game. Ten kicked off his sand shoes and crossed his legs, his arms behind his head. He was beginning to faintly grow stubble again.

'Do you think I should take Rose to the dance thing?'

'Yeah, yeah you should. To be honest, she's probably waiting for you to ask her.'

'Shit, I only just realised we had that dance. When is it again?' Nine asked.

'December...12th?'

'I thought it was the 11th.'

'Well you would say that, you're name is eleven.'

He laughed, and the conversation quickly turned from dances to football to music pretty soon.

'Who do you think I should take?' He said out of the blue.

'As a friend, obviously.' He added, knowing he'd never get anyone serious enough to go with him.

'I don't know. I could ask Martha or a Donna...' Ten suggested.

'Or Jack.' Nine sniggered.

'Oh yeah, Harkness would go with you. He doesn't mind whether you're girl or boy, all the same to him.' Twelve said, 'I do like Jack though. Everyone does.'

'Yeah. Actually, he kissed me once.' Nine agreed.

'Wow, okay.'

'Yeah. Not that bad if I say so myself.'

They all laughed, and Eleven's eyes grew droopy like his hair. He undone the buttons on his shirt, changing into his trackies and plain t shirts he wore as substitute for pyjamas.

'I was thinking maybe Amy. Just as a friend, of course. She might say yes.'

'She's just gotten with Rory, mate.' Twelve informed him regretfully.

'Oh. I dunno then.'

'Why don't you take Miss Oswald?' Nine sniggered. Eleven smiled to himself, thinking about how much he would want to.

'Yeah, maybe I should.' He answered jokingly, and he slid into bed.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Weeks passed into another month, and he felt the days slipping by way too fast. Every week he made it gladly to Miss Oswald's classroom, and their one hour tuition classes had started to develop with something much less awkward. When their hands touched it still beheld the sensational sparks flying between them, but he had finally learned to keep the nerve within. She had helped him most beneficially, and not only was he comfortable, he was also confident in his work. As he stared up at the ceiling of his maths class, absently counting the tiles, he thought about how much help she had given him, and how her skirts were short enough to let him admire her flawlessly perfect legs. He was no longer consciously ashamed of himself for liking her; he had found, what he thought, could most definitely be a soulmate. Not a fling, not a one night stand, but a person he could actually see carrying over the threshold of a new built house. Steadying himself at the thought which was now exploding inside his brain, he mentally took note not to think of this again, as he was kidding himself into thinking something was there. Of course there wasn't, it would always be valued as a mutual student/teacher relationship, nothing more. He was getting too carried away. He hadn't even asked her out for a drink. And even if he did, why would she even consider it? Yet his thoughts weren't as easy to disclose; the thinking of a 20 year old in uni, at night, was hardly going to let him face the harsh reality with understanding. He even admitted to himself; Miss Oswald and her perfect body would exist with him only in his dreams. As he mercilessly day dreamed about Miss Oswald kissing a trail down his torso, he was shaken back into the real world by Nine, who gestured to his bald, expectant maths teacher at the front of the class. Starting with a jolt he lowered his eyes. He hoped nothing had given anything away to suggest he was in the middle of a sexual fantasy.

'Are you paying attention, Smith?' He asked in clipped tones.

Eleven only nodded, trying not to blush.

'Then what is 156% of 1560?'

He swallowed, his words only forming in an audible sound that resembled static. He knew the answer, but it wouldn't come to him; not able to speak, he opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish. Ten nudged him, asking what was up. Of course, he couldn't reply in his state of shock.

'That's the third time I've caught you paying none attention. Detention for you, end of the day.'

'B-b-but,' he gasped, finally forming a coherent sentence, 'I have English tuition with Miss Oswald!'

'Then I will e-mail Miss Oswald and tell her you won't be able to attend tonight. Get on with you're work.' He nodded to his maths book.

Rubbing his head with his hand, he sighed aloud in exasperation. Stupid fucking maths teacher. He'd have to wait another whole week to see Miss Oswald again in private, and the thought of that made his insides burn.

'Are you sure you're okay?' Ten checked. He nodded, finally setting pencil to paper.

'Its okay mate, I'll share some of my cake with ya. It's bloody fantastic!' Nine whispered.

The rest of the hour seemed to drag especially slow, and Eleven was so behind on the questions he couldn't allow to think more of his favourite teacher. Karma's a bitch.

••••

Twelve told him that in fact, they actually had English that day. Eleven couldn't hide his smile, and Twelve especially composed a soppy riff just for him, that made their whole group laugh as they made their way over to the English corridor.

'Jane Austen!' Miss. Oswald announced, as they had all settled down in their seats. Looking up at her with dazed heart eyes, what came next both shocked and pleased him to no end.

'Amazing writer, brilliant comic observer, and strictly between ourselves, a phenomenal kisser.' Silence as she day dreamed with a small reminiscent smile on her face out of the window. She was only woken from her daze when Twelve tentatively said, 'uh, miss?'

Turning back round to them, Ten had to make sure he was hearing right, and downright challenged the argument that Jane Austen was indeed, dead.

'So is Agatha Christie, who I personally would like to have known. So how would you know Jane Austen?'

'Hm,' she smiled to Ten, observing his sticky up hair in amusement, 'maybe I just like to imagine. And as for Agatha Christie, I would definitely agree with you there,' she laughed, 'fantastic mystery writer.'

What had struck him this time was not the way she preceded to flip her hair back or saunter round to her desk, it was her comment on imagining kissing Jane Austen. For some reason, the thought of Miss Oswald being interested in and kissing women was strangely very hot. So now he knew, along with the rest of the class, that she was most likely bisexual. The notion brought about a huge urge to take her to bed himself, and he found her even sexier than he had ever seen her before, now that he knew her not-so-secret secret. With a satisfactory smile he added this new information to the hidden draw in his brain, to be used later when no one could burst in on him.

As she began to teach and continue to look gorgeous, he swore at one point she winked at him. He turned round, looking back at the number of students behind him. He wasn't even sure it was intended for him, or anyone, but it did set his heart thumping louder against his rib cage. He wished he could rewind a few seconds and relive the moment just to see who the wink was for and what the context of it was. Likelihood was, he was just thinking too much of it. His constant smile throughout class had unnerved some people, yet as the bell rung and everyone closed their notebooks he couldn't help but reflect on what such a great lesson it had been. Smile still on his face, it wasn't until he had stood up and bent down to get his bag that he realised he had a detention, so he couldn't stay an hour with Miss Oswald. In his sudden reminder, he banged his head against the inside of his desk. Straightening and rubbing his head, he scowled and cursed.

'Are you okay, Eleven?' Her voice rang out from the front, looking at him with concerning eyes. Looking flippantly at her he muttered a 'yeah' and climbed down the steps to the front.

'Miss?' He called, once he had made his way down. She turned back round to him, her eyes dilating even more.

'Yeah?'

'I'm sorry I couldn't make it tonight. I have a detention with my dickhead maths teacher.'

'Language,' she admonished, but she held a faint smile, 'it's okay, I'll see you next week. And in lessons too, of course. And,' she leaned in closer to him, whispering. Eleven's breathing became shallow as he noticed how her hair was just an inch apart from his own, 'between you and me, I don't think much of him either. Trust me when I say he is a dickhead, acts like a bloody idiot in the staff room.' She withdrew, and Eleven felt strangely cold without her radiant heat. She smiled at him, and he momentarily got pulled under the charm of her eyes, and he felt like he was falling, falling into a bottomless pit, never to land, never to reach the end. He smiled back at her, and the desire to hold her wrist gently and lean into her body was a fire in his belly he had to put out. A moment longer smiling at each other, and then he turned and walked out. Striding down the darkened corridor, he was reminded of the revelation of her swearing, how with her slight northern accent she said the word 'bloody', and the way it sounded so sexy coming from her. He was most certainly adding that to his dream draw. He imagined all too quickly the image of her swearing and shouting out his name as he thrust inside her, and he shook himself awake from yet another fantasy, and made it just in time to maths.

After a boringly slow thirty minutes of writing down equations, Eleven was positively reeling from hunger, and rushed to the canteen with the air of someone finding food after a month of starvation. Sitting down at the table, he chuckled to himself as he remembered the detention, and how he could hardly look at his teacher without the whispered words of Miss Oswald ringing in his mind.

'I love this spoon!' Twelve declared randomly, waving a huge dessert spoon in the air with natural yoghurt on it. Licking it appreciatively, he looked over to him. Eleven couldn't mistake the look of craziness on his face, and knew instantly what he had been getting up to prior dinner. In fact, Twelve looked beyond smashed. He looked high. Chuckling amusingly at himself, Ten's voice entertained a number of people around the table with his anecdote. As Eleven looked out beyond the dark window, he had never felt so at peace with the world, or with anyone, as he did in that moment.

His eyes quickly noticed Miss Oswald striding into the canteen and he watched her with nothing short of a hungry-eyed expression. As she walked past he smiled friendly at her, and she confidently smiled back at him. Her red lipstick and rosy cheeks made his pale face look like ice, and he grinned to himself as she made her exit. Dipping his spoon into his ice cream he stared further at the door she had just left moments ago.

Ten watched him, and tapped his shoulder.

'If I didn't know any better I'd have said you were in love.' He laughed, obviously referencing Miss Oswald. Nine agreed, adding that he thought he had never seen him look so much as interested in any other girl than he did their English teacher.

'If I didn't know any better, I would have guessed you wanted to fuck her!' Twelve piped up, his eyes still delirious and his lazy smile instantly making an impression on the girls at the next table. Eleven only laughed, never admitting that Twelve had been so accurate with his predicament.

'Twelve?' Nine prompted, turning head to look at his confused face.

'Why are you all so...English? What's wrong with you all?'

'C'mon,' Ten laughed again, helping him up by his arm as Nine did the same to his other, 'Allons-y.'

Twelve deliberately threaded his fingers slowly through his curly hair and raised his eyebrows, knowing it would create a stir between his 'fans'.

Eleven walked alongside them, marvelling at the scene Twelve was making while he strummed randomly on his guitar and nearly fell asleep. By the looks of things, he had gotten himself really very high, and now, like the brothers they all were, they were going to have to look after him. Hauling him up the stairs, they pushed him onto his bed, but by that time, he was already fast asleep. Looking down at him and all shaking their heads in unison, they laughed at the spectacle of Twelve sprawled out on his bed.

'God knows what he'll be like in the morning.' Nine said, grinning. They all wondered off to their beds, getting undressed to the boxers and sliding into bed. As he contemplated the colour and shape of the ceiling patterns, he cast his thoughts back to what Ten had said earlier on about love. It was a deep and awakening concept, but it couldn't just be an infatuation, could it? He hadn't really considered the comment much at the time, but now it sent all parts of his brain whirring. Did he actually love her? Was he in love with Miss Oswald? He shut his eyes tight, and an uncontrollable grin appeared as it rang clearly in his mind:

'John Smith is in love with Miss Oswald.'


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

She wasn't disappointed at him at all...she just wished she had been able to see him. What was she saying? She always saw him! All the time in class and the canteen...but their after sessions were fast becoming the highlight of her week. As she drove home she contemplated the day's events, and the way Eleven had looked at her when he told her about his detention. His eyes in particular were what drew her in, along with his adorably floppy hair. And that smile...she often wondered how that smile could ever be directed at her, or anyone. She had surprised herself when she had leaned closer in to him, and almost accidentally on purpose smelled him. His scent was fresh and clean, like a mixture between a floral washing powder and something sweet, which she couldn't put her finger on. It could be sherbet lemons or oranges or jelly babies. Either way her senses had invigorated his smell and his charm and his beautiful, perfect face. A she sped down the road, she wondered if he had caught the small and subtle wink she had given him, in response to a joke they had shared about punctuation. Probably not. She was being too childish and consumed, because just the notion of seeing him again the next day was enough to jump out of her bed in the mornings. She pondered amusedly to herself about how he looked in the morning, whether he had a bedhead or he always had to rub his eyes. Whether he slept in pyjamas, or boxers, or even naked...no. That was completely out of bounds. She couldn't fantasise about one of her students in such a way, it wasn't professional at all. But she reminded herself that she was alone on her motorbike, free for the moment of marking and planning and checking and writing. She was far away from uni now, and like the hellish Satan she was, she began to picture him in all sorts of ways that made her almost moan aloud as the wind whipped her hair and she continued down the motorway, trying harder not to break concentration. Grinning wickedly she allowed herself the privilege of a private session back at home, where she could pleasure herself without judgement and not feel guilty about it at all, since he would never find out. As soon as she parked in her driveway she had gotten completely out of control, and could feel her centre throbbing at the fulfilment it needed. Closing her bedroom door she revelled in the quietness of being in her own privacy rather than amongst uni kids and teachers. Focusing on his voice replaying in her head she released a long, pent up moan after the agonisingly painful wait she'd had to endure to get to this moment all week. Clara knew it was messed up and creepy and downright weird, but she could hardly blame herself as she concentrated on those sparkling eyes and another moan escaped her. And seven years difference wasn't much, was it? She couldn't believe a woman of her sophistication was doing this, but everything about him intrigued her. All she knew was that her life had turned completely upside down the moment he had walked through those doors.

•••••

Eleven's class was next on her list, and she smiled to herself. As they all filed in, she observed him and he sat relatively close by to her. Today he wore a pink patterned shirt and bow tie, white jeans and the ridiculous red fez he loved carrying around was actually perched at an angle on his head. She noticed that his side parting had grown longer, and it made him look even more adorable than usual wearing the fez. She quickly ran through the basis of the lesson, everything important, and collapsed into her chair. What was painfully embarrassing was whenever she looks into his face she remembers what she had done over the weekend and it made her feel slightly uncomfortable to no end. But she could deal with it, a responsible adult that made her own decisions, and she decided that not a boy, not anyone could distract her from her work again. She walked round the class, peering at student's work. Bravely reading Eleven's work she could hear his breath intake and his chest tighten. Tapping her finger on his work she corrected his spelling.

'Miscellaneous. Double 'l'. Apart from that, very good.'

She lingered a moment longer and continued her wondering. Looking back at him he saw him scribbling down onto his paper again. She was certainly impressed, he had managed to write four sides of paper. It seemed her tuition was paying off.

••••

The next week and Eleven once again was unable to see Miss Oswald. And not even for just an hour after classes. She was off on that very day and he hoped she was okay. He wished he himself could wrap his arms around her, comfort her if she was ill. He would do absolutely anything for her. Provide her with blankets and tissues and hot chocolate and soothers. Give her every single ounce of his care, hold her tight and will her illness to go away himself. But he didn't know where she was, and it made the day so dull he wished he had skived it all and stayer up in his dorm. But he hadn't come to university to develop a crush on a teacher. So he willed himself to get through the day and make an effort to pay attention. English was the hardest to face, sitting there in his chair, almost falling asleep at the boring teacher leading the lesson instead of Miss Oswald. As soon as it was all over, he went straight up to his bed, to while away the hour like they did in tuition. He lay there, throwing a rugby ball up into the air and catching it, each time calculating the distance between each throw.

'Hey!' Twelve ran up to him. 'Come out with us, we're having a little party in the woods. Don't want you to miss it.'

'In celebration of?'

'Of being young!' He exclaimed, throwing his arms into the air and actually taking off his shades. Eleven caught the rugby ball and placed it to his chest, watching Twelve reason with him.

'Come on, you shouldn't miss this. We're all down there! Let's go, brother.' He dragged his arm and leg out of bed but Eleven didn't make the effort to stand up.

'Whats actually wrong with you?' He asked.

He didn't reply, instead observed the ceiling.

'I swear you're no fun anymore. If we said party to you, you would have come running! The life and soul of it! Now, you're not even bothering to come out with you're brethren! What's got into you?'

Eleven thought it over, and he was right. He had been too focused on Miss Oswald to care much about anything else lately. He slowly smiled, rolling the ball discarded on the bed as he sprung up and patted Twelve's hair.

'Life and soul of the party, coming up.' With a jubilant cheer Twelve followed him, and as soon as they hit the woods they ran amok. Catching up with Nine and Ten the whole party was amazing, and their group was just as it used to be, wild, free and completely out of control. Dispelling thoughts of Miss Oswald he fully lived up to his title of life and soul. They missed dinner, and everyone was dancing, music turned up loud from the stereo and the night vastly turning to black. Ten, Nine, Twelve and Eleven sang along to all the songs, howling them in the light of the moon, each of them swaying in each other's arms. The alcohol say merrily in his stomach and the consumption of it lead him to dance on top of a bench top, waving his arms in a huge rave. They all joined him up there, gesturing for everyone else around them to sing louder and dance harder. Bodies intertwined, big and loud, like a proper nightclub, only in the woods. Bottles swung freely from all their hands, shouting and laughing. Eleven allowed himself to get completely drunk in the feeling of being young and carefree, to lose himself in the midst of it all. The moon illuminated all of their faces, and smoke rose to intermingle with the cold night air, although Eleven was hot from dancing and the adrenaline. At some point, Ten had acquired blue and red 3D glasses, and Eleven watched happily for him as Ten leaned to kiss the pretty blonde in his arms. Heads whipping round at the sudden burst of booming music and Twelve had mercilessly plugged his guitar into the amp. He played an electrifying riff, and then a few songs everyone shouted coarsely too, Eleven's arms wrapped round Twelve, swaying once again to the music. Finally, after staggering back to the university, they all collapsed into bed. The three of them (excluding Eleven) all had girls on their arms and as he smiled up at the ceiling, feeling invincible with alcohol still shiny on his lips and the world falling at his feet, he allowed himself to zone out and shut his eyes.

He groaned, turning on his front, his mouth agape against his pillow and his hair ruffled wildly. His droopy eyes wondered over to the clock on his bedside table, and they suddenly widened.

'Shit!' He exclaimed, and began to rush round his bed, dressing himself as quickly as he could. He observed each of his friends still asleep with a girl cuddled up to their side, and he woke them all up, warning them of the time.

'Fucking hell, why the fuck are we all getting dressed?' Twelve grumbled, sitting stiffly upright.

'Because we are late up from the party last night.' Eleven explained, pulling on a tweed jacket. For a good ten minutes, the dorm room was a kerfuffle of people getting dressed and ready, groaning and complaining. At last, they all walked out the door and down to classes.

'It was a great night though.' Eleven countered, after Rose commented on how tired she was.

'It was fucking brilliant!' Twelve said. He had the early morning look, his hair springing everywhere in each direction. Ten looked like he was sleepwalking and Nine, as ever, was just as energetic as he was a few hours ago. Nothing ever fazed him.

'I did tell you, not even party could get me a girl.' He told them.

'Nah, you did.' Ten said.

'What?'

'You did get a girl. Well, you were flirting. But you didn't take her back up to the dorm. Dunno why, she was very pretty-'

A slap from Rose and Ten rectified his sentence.

'Not as beautiful as you.' He told her, and she smiled at him. Eleven watched them, all of them, talking to these hot girls and he was so very envious of their relationships. If he had managed to get a girl, he hadn't even realised it, and it was probably because he knew that the only person he wanted was Miss Oswald, and he wasn't the type if person to use someone. With a sigh, he knew it would hence be impossible to find someone as amazing as he thought she was. He could feel a connection every time he was near her or looked into her eyes. It was just the gut feeling that he couldn't replace. But as he reflected on the nights events, a smile appeared on his face. It had been a great night.


	5. Chapter 5

I actually wrote an extra chapter last night to post today because I knew I wouldn't be in any state to write after the torture that was Hell Bent. Seriously, that episode was a fucking killer, I loved it.

Chapter 5

'I'm sorry I wasn't here last week. I was feeling kinda crap.'

Eleven looked into her eyes and smiled. Another week had passed, and he had finally gotten to see her for tuition after two weeks.

'Don't worry about it. I'm sorry you were ill. I'm sure my grades haven't slipped a dreadful amount yet.' He grinned.

'Well, I did have a look at last weeks work, Eleven, and found that you didn't do it. Why not?'

'I don't know...I guess...I guess I learn better with you.'

It was a poor excuse, he knew, but he didn't want her to become angry or disappointed at him.

'I can make it up tommorrow,' he said, 'I'll do extra on the historical literature essay.'

She laughed, tucking her hair behind her ear while she wrote something on a piece of paper. Her smile drove him insanely mad sometimes, as it did now.

'No, no you don't have to do it.'

'I think it's because the teacher was so boring and not you I started to fall asleep.'

'Flattery will get you nowhere.' She quipped, still smiling at him.

He smiled again in return.

'Really?' He challenged, his eyes dancing.

'Hmm..' She deliberated.

'You're beautiful.' He said, and he instantly regretted it. His eyes dilated in horror as he realised what he had just said. His heart seemed to double in pace and boom against his chest, and he wished he never had said it. It came out in such a rush he hadn't even registered his mouth forming words as he said it in his head. Miss Oswald looked taken aback, but apart from that, her expression was unreadable. He hoped she'd take it well, as silence enraptured them and his cheeks burned just a little bit brighter.

'Uhm...' She managed, her eyes still on his, 'I'm flattered.'

Trying to wave it off, he joked with her.

'I knew you would be!' He said, with a false laugh. Inside, he was mentally hitting himself. What the hell are you doing?

And then, totally unexpectedly and unprecedented, she leaned over her desk, took hold of his shirt in both hands and pressed her lips to his. Receiving the most surprising shock of his life, he realised that she was actually kissing him, and with further shock, he was kissing her back. His mouth curves to fit hers and he stood perfectly still. Her lips were warm and sweet to the taste, perfectly soft and better than he had ever imagined then to be. Yet all to soon she pulled away, and although it had been chaste, it had also been the best moment in his life. She looked up at him apologetically, and he still stood there, completely frozen to the spot and his eyes still wide with surprise.

She looked ashamedly down at her desk, not able to make eye contact.

'I'm...I'm so sorry, I...I don't know what came over me. I didn't mean to, I'm sorry. Could we just forget this ever-'

Her words were cut off as Eleven had reached over and pulled her into a fervent and unyielding kiss, his lips finally fitting the frame of hers and moving perfectly against them. His arm was at her back, the other threading through her silky hair urgently, stroking it with a fast paced rhythm that matched that of their kisses. With relief she didn't withdraw and didn't restrain, let him kiss her with everything he had. A desk separated them, yet she felt heavenly to him, and her hands came up to encircle his neck. His palms cupped both sides of her cheeks, his thumbs stroking her face as he managed to kneel on the top of her desk, and pushed her back as he jumped over to the other side. Immediately pressing her up against the wall, he finally felt her body pressed to his, and it was over sensational. It was better than anything in a dream. His hands held her hips and her tongue probed his and he allowed her entry as his heart thundered at her tongue in his mouth, and it was almost too real to be true. Her hands lightly ruffled his hair and she pulled him closer to her. He could feel her heartbeat, feel her soft hands roam up and down his body like she too, had been dreaming of this moment. He flicked his tongue, and she gave out a breathy moan against his mouth, which sent him crazy, digging his fingertips into her hips and she finally pulled her lips from his, instead breathing heavily against him while her hands still had a hold of his hair. She was still so close, their noses touching, and they both stared at each other with sparkling eyes. Nothing was said between them as they both caught their breath, but nothing could be said to convey the extent of what had just happened, and what was still happening, as their bodies were still pressed to each other's. Finally, he managed to speak.

'You are beautiful.'

'I'm flattered.' She said back immediately.

His weight shifted and they were facing each other, shock still rippling through their veins.

'Go,' She told him, 'before anyone sees you. If someone was to walk in-'

'It doesn't matter.' He said, putting a finger to her lips.

'It does.'

He gave her something between a smirk and a smile.

'I'll see you next week, then.'

She smiled at him in return.

'I hope so.'

He turned and left, and the surprise of it was still cording through his bloodstream. He couldn't believe that had just happened. She was so heavenly perfect, better than anything else in the universe. As he made way up to his dorm, a huge knowing and secretive smile on his face, he relayed the events in his head repeatedly.

He couldn't wait til next week.

•••••

It had finally happened, and she still felt shocked at her actions. She was a teacher, he was a student, and yet their bodies fit so well together and it was better than anything else she had experienced. She was so fearful of people coming in unexpectedly to see them in that position, and it set her on edge. Yet the thrill of it all was overwhelming, and just from the scent of his hair turned her on. In fact, she could have let events unravel and unfold in that moment, if it were not for the fear of being interrupted, and the fact she was constantly reminding herself she couldn't be doing this. She couldn't believe he felt the same way, couldn't believe he kissed her back, or that he had called her beautiful. It brought about craving in an embarrassing way, but she was sure she could make it a week. What was really going to be struggle was the thought of acting as 'just his English teacher' in front of him and the class, pretending like nothing ever happened. She was worried that someone would find out by the flirtatious glances they would be giving each other, which she inevitably knew what was going to happen. Thankfully, it was the weekend tomorrow so she didn't have to face the problems yet. But she was so happy, ecstatically so, it was hard to contain. And that part of her was screaming in exultance. With a smile playing on her lips as she tapped on her computer, she relayed the events in her head repeatedly. She couldn't wait til next week.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

'Good morning, Miss Oswald.'

He stood there, a glint in his eye that no one could see except her. Trying to act like everything was normal, she replied sophisticatedly like a normal teacher.

'Morning, Eleven.'

He settled into his chair at the front, next to Twelve and Nine. She had been fairly amused when she had found out that Eleven's friend were all named after numbers. She had no idea why. He looked up at her as she started teaching, a glowing smile on his face and a sparkle in his eyes that she couldn't bear. He was staring at her with such adoration she could hardly look at him. Focusing instead on the task at hand she collapsed into her chair and started marking. She couldn't see him, but she was sure he wasn't doing the work. Instead, he was still staring at her, but simultaneously looking troubled.

'Get on with you're work.' She told him in a teacherly manner. Yet his arms fidgeted against the table until he grabbed his sheet and walked up to her desk. Standing at the very edge he pointed at his paper, not even an ink scratch on it, telling her he didn't understand.

'What don't you understand?'

He leaned in a little closer and her breath got shaky. There were at least forty other students and she couldn't be seen like this.

'What happened, the other night,' he whispered, his hands pressed flat to her desk and her eyes blazing straight through her soul. That intense gaze was one she hadn't encountered on his face before, 'that wasn't nothing, was it? It did actually happen, and you reciprocated and-'

'Can we not...talk about that.' She pursed her lips. 'We're in a class with thirty or forty other students in here, we're not alone this time. And I don't want to talk about it anyway. What happened actually happened.'

'But you enjoyed it? You don't regret it?'

A small smile was hard to resist.

'Of course I don't regret it. I just don't feel comfortable talking about it right now. We can save the conversation til later, okay? But for now, to put you're mind at ease, so you can get on with you're work,' she emphasised, raising her eyebrows, 'it was never nothing to me.'

She flicked her pen at him, gesturing to his discarded seat.

'Now go, and get on with the work.'

By the glimmer in his smile and the way he turned back he had gotten the answer he was looking for. Tapping the pen rhythmically on her desk she looked up to see his shoulders hunched over his work, writing aptly. Those tuitions were really, really paying off.

•••••

When he sat down in his chair, Twelve's curiosity got the better of him.

'You're getting friendlier and friendlier with her.' He commented, as he laid his guitar protectively to the ground and took off his jacket.

'Well, yeah, I've had after hours tuition, so I am a bit friendlier with her.' He replied innocently.

Eleven kept his cool throughout the rest of the lesson, after he had confronted Miss Oswald. He had felt the following eyes of his friends boring into him as he had leant even closer toward the English teacher.

'Forget friends.' Twelve said afterwards, as they all walked toward art.

'You looked like you were about to snog the fuck out of her!' Ten added, saying the very thing that was going through everyone's minds. Eleven blushed a little but defended what he knew was false.

'Guys, I wasn't going to kiss her, come on. That's ridiculous.'

'No, you were asking her for a fuck instead.' Twelve deadpanned.

Eleven joked with them on the subject, joining in with the banter that Twelve so hated until he was sure they had confidence that the notion was absurd. He just needed to keep them away from drawing closer to the truth. In all honesty he was quite scared of how they would react if they knew. Anyway, he was anticipating tonight when he saw her again, and actually quite nervous now from what had happened last week. She had told him she didn't regret it but did that also mean she wanted to hang onto it? Or would she apologise for everything and tell him it was too inappropriate? All through his remaining classes and dinner he was contemplating this, going over all possible situations in his head. Finally, he made his way to her classroom, pathetically checking his appearance in a mirror before entering. He saw her hanging over her desk, sorting out things and her hair falling like a beautiful waterfall so her face was concealed. He closed the door behind him quite ominously, as they usually left it ajar. She looked up at him as he started forward and smiled, almost sadly. Oh shit. His mind was racing, and a lump got stuck in his throat.

'Are you okay, miss?' He asked, as usual.

'Fine.' Her tone was normal, if a little clipped.

At this point he would draw up a chair and sit down opposite her, the desk between them. Yet he kept standing, and looked at her, waiting for her to say something. She didn't even make contact.

'Did you mean what you said?' He broke the silence.

She acted obliviously to him, and Eleven grew impatient. He took hold of her hand as it passed through the air, soft and smooth, caressing it lightly. She finally looked up at him with her overwhelming chocolate brown eyes, and he stared softly back, waiting for an answer.

'Yes.' She told him.

'What are you thinking?' He asked, moving as close as he could to her, fingers sliding further up her arm, and she averted her eyes from him.

'I'm confused. Confused about it all. It keeps debating in my head. I'm not sure what to do. But I know that it was something I will never forget. I'm just not sure it would work. I wish it could. But a teacher and a student-' she bit her lip, leaving her sentence open.

'I don't want things to go back to normal because of it. It was the best moment of my life-'

'Don't say that. It can't be, it's just me. The whole experience of university should be the highlight of you're life, not some silly little kiss.'

Her comment had hurt him a little, and he could see she knew this as she looked him in the eye.

'Silly little kiss?' He questioned.

She sighed, 'I don't know, Eleven! I don't know, my minds conflicted. I want one thing, but my mind's telling me another. If anyone found out about us I would be out of this job, and I don't want to lose it.'

'I understand, but-'

'No, you don't understand!' She took her hand away from his, 'You really, really do not understand.' She laughed bitterly.

A deliberating pause ensued, and then he walked round the side of the desk and toward her, shamelessly taking her in his arms. Accepting his embrace, she closed her eyes, leaning against his chest.

'I want to, believe me. You don't know how much I want to, Eleven, it kills me inside. It's been only two months since I met you and yet I feel completely torn.'

His thumbs slowly stroked her back and he kissed her head.

'But whenever this might happen, when it's just you and me...I know that caught up in the moment I can't resist it, but when I have time to actually think about it, the fact I'm you're teacher, it...it's intimidating and reckless and I know it's wrong. But then when I'm in you're arms, like this...' She drew away, staring into his eyes, 'I know it feels right. Before any of this happened I had accepted that that was the case, that it would never develop to anything more, despite my wishful thinking. I'm just split, split between one decision and another.'

'I know there are insecurities,' he stepped closer, 'I know it might not work. But it's a risk I would be more than happy to take. You don't know how many times I think of you, how many times I want it to become more.'

'You can't take a risk that would get you kicked out of university! Not for me, not for anyone, do you understand? No matter how entangled this gets, I am making sure you get on with you're education and don't waste it. You have such a bright future ahead of you. I'm sure when you leave you'll forget all about me.'

'I don't think I could ever forget you.'

'Me neither.'

'And I still want to do this. I still want to hold you in my arms, no matter if people find out.'

'This tuition alias won't last long, Eleven, and you know it.'

He hung his head.

'Please. Reconsider, don't act on what you're mind tells you. Listen to you're heart.' A chill ran down her spine as he placed his hand exactly over her very heart, pacing away under his palm.

She nodded slowly, and then tenderly reached up to enclose her lips with his and wrap her arms around his neck. This time it was soft and gentle, reassuring and filled with possibility, albeit questions. Her fingers played with his floppy hair that hung in his eyes, rubbing it between forefinger and thumb.

'What did you're heart tell you?'

'I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature.'

He opened his eyes to watch her, a curious expression on his face.

'Jane Austen?' He raised a faint eyebrow.

She laughed. 'Jane Austen.' She confirmed.

Her fingers wrapped round his and played with them childishly.

'Come back next week. I'll try not to think too much about the cons.'

'I hope not.'

His hand cupped her cheek, and he realised that everything he saw before him was everything he wanted. It wasn't just a flippant emotion or thought; it was one that empowered his very soul. He couldn't tell if she felt the same way, but she kissed him once more, one that left his lips tingling from her touch.

'You should go. It's getting dark.'

'Do I have to?'

'Yes!'

She gave him an endearing look.

'Go on.'

'It's almost like you don't want me here.'

'I do!' She said, wrapping arms around his middle. 'But I told you, I don't want you to get into trouble for wandering around corridors.'

'Its only six o'clock, everyone's still up.'

'Yes, and I have to go home.' She picked up her bag and slung it round her shoulder. Eleven couldn't tear his eyes away from the alluring sight.

'Home?'

'Yes, home, with a mortgage, hundreds of bills, MOT for a motorbike and a car. Adult things you don't even have yet.'

'Seven years isn't a huge age gap.'

'I know, but it is when you consider a relationship.'

'Age doesn't matter. At least to me.'

'It doesn't matter to me either, but unfortunately I can't say the same for the rest of the world. If we had met differently, Eleven, I swear, I wouldn't even have had to consider it. Fact is, I'm you're English teacher, and you will have to actually act like my student during classes. No wonder I'm nervous that people keep getting suspicious.'

'They're not-'

'I heard what Twelve said, I'm not stupid.'

'Don't argue right now. This is not the way to say goodbye.'

She sighed, putting on her biker jacket. Eleven couldn't help but take in a sharp intake of breath.

'Sorry.'

'No, it's okay-'

'No, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...' She muttered, hugging him again. 'I just have a lot of things going on, what with the work and you and life in general. Come on, I'll let you out.'

He followed her to the door, where she turned the lights off and locked the door.

'You don't need to walk me to my bike!' She laughed.

He smiled in return. The night was cool but unsettled, leaves blowing in the wind, spiralling down like beautiful tornados until they reached the ground. It was one of the things he liked about December.

He watched her climb on her bike and put on her helmet, a marvel that could have just been one of his dreams.

His hair whipped wildly in the wind, despite the fact he was not cold, even without a jacket.

'Goodnight, Eleven.'

Kissing her on the cheek he replied, 'Goodnight, Miss Oswald.'

She revved up the engine and drove away into the night, like a bird in flight. The moonlight had illuminated the pathway she had driven and he lingered there a moment longer. If she was to be Elizabeth Bennett, then he would try to be her Mr. Darcy.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

He had understood what she was saying, yet felt numb at not knowing if he was truly hers. All he could think of was how much he wanted to be, how her lips curved when she kissed him and how she felt in his arms. Overall, he thought it had gone well, if a little too argumentative. But she had kissed him, and it had been the single most beautiful thing he had shared between a person. It had taken his breath away. What he wanted was to see her every night, but she had told him to wait another week. He knew it would painfully drag, like time itself was punishing him for his crimes. He understood that she was unsure because she was his teacher, but when she quoted Jane Austen to him it had made his heart skip.

The next time came around just as he had predicted: slow. So slow, he had begun to party again with his friends just to pass the time away. It had resulted in three late detentions and a warning, but he hardly cared. He was still concentrating enough to pass in each subject, but it was definitely not to his full potential. Even his asshole maths teacher had told him he was concerned he wasn't 'performing to his best abilities.' He had even the audacity to ask him why, but he had just told him to mildly fuck off.

At last, from what felt like an eternity, he arrived at her door. Stepping in, the first thing he noticed was the way the moonlight illuminated her hair and made it look even shinier. The next was the fact she looked completely bored out of her mind. He wished he could change that.

He walked calmly over to her, round her desk and behind her chair, kneeling on the floor and wrapping his arms round her chest. Looking up at him he couldn't resist leaning down and giving her a soft kiss.

'Are you okay?'

'Now you're here.' She sighed.

His heart skipped a beat. Had she really just said those words?

She swivelled round in her chair to face him, so his arms were now at her back.

'I've decided that when you look down at me I feel shivers, when you touch me it's overwhelming, and I don't give a damn about anyone else. As long as we keep it very discreet,' he gazed at her in wonder as she stood opposite him, 'I am all yours.'

And then she was kissing him, and the shock was still running through his body at her words. She was his. He was hers. He could feel his heart beating doubly fast, and his mouth quickly reciprocated, sliding his tongue the same way she did, their kisses slowly becoming messy yet passionate, and his hands roamed her back, reaching further toward her ass, until he massaged it and she moaned into his mouth. He could feel her skin through her blouse, and her fingers in his hair. She didn't stop, so he gladly continued, kissing her with everything he had, until he took hold of her properly and lifted her up onto her desk. Her slender legs wrapped round his waist so he was enclosed, and he could feel his erection rub against her centre almost painfully. Nimbly undoing the buttons to her blouse, he kissed her jaw and a trail down her neck, as she panted against his shoulder. He was in heaven, a bliss that could never, ever be matched to anything else.

'This doesn't mean you don't do you're coursework.'

'What?' He mumbled against her skin. His hands started to thread through her hair, pulling at it so her head lolled back and he could see her beautiful, sparkling eyes and her serene smile.

'You haven't even completed it, have you?'

'No.'

'You still need to do it then. Just because this is happening does not mean you get educational privileges.'

He laughed, leaning in to kiss her neck once again.

'Now is not the time for teacher mode.' He held her thighs in hand, shifting them back so he could lean in properly. She kissed him this time tenderly, as he slowly discarded her blouse and let it tumble to the floor. Her arms held his back, wrapping under his arms and stroking him. He grinded into her, eliciting moans in unison and leaving them both breathless.

'Eleven.' She whispered against his shoulder.

'Yeah?'

'There's something I've been wanting to ask.'

'What's that?'

A pause ensued as he sucked at her bottom lip and continued kissing her, but she drew away.

'Why are you and you're friends all named with numbers?'

He laughed. He honestly thought it would be something serious.

'Together we're all called The Doctors, like a band name. We get called that by other people too, so it's kind of widespread, and the name just stuck. We all decided to christen ourselves with our favourite numbers. Purely coincidental they go in order.'

She laughed, a sound that made him press into her further.

'What's you're name?'

She smiled and bit her lip, eyes closed.

'I never told you, did I? It's...It's Clara.'

Eleven stood still, and she opened them at his sudden lack of movement. He turned the word over and over in his mind, loving how it sounded, like the name of an angel.

'Clara. It's so beautiful, which is why it suits you.'

She shuffled closer to him, fully wrapping her legs round him now.

'Clara Oswald.' He said reverently.

She began to slowly smile as he said it, and he muttered her name into her skin.

She gripped the nape of his neck, as she kissed him more heatedly now and his fingers worked at removing her skirt. Consciously unbuckling his trousers he let them fall as well as his pants, which were restraining his hard member. With ease, he spread her legs slightly apart, and she moaned at his touch as the tip hovered at her entrance.

'I'm a married woman.' She breathed, and Eleven thrust inside her, not having listened to what she had said. She started to pant as he repeatedly entered her, progressing rougher and rougher, until the sensation was unbearably overwhelming. She made sounds that aroused him still further, causing him to thrust forcefully so she moaned louder into his mouth. The feeling of him inside her was something he had never thought he would ever feel, but had certainly craved. Together they're bodies intertwined, and she quickly whipped off his shirt and caressed his taut chest, her hands roaming everywhere she could reach. His head rolled back as he felt his climax reach him, and sure enough he called her name, spilling inside her. Riding out their orgasm together she leant against him and he held her in his arms, rocking her against him, almost to the point where she would have been inside him again. They caught their breath together, him threading fingers through her hair and her devilishly reaching down to tenderly stroke his cock while leaning up to kiss him. He could barely contain his groans, and nodded his encouragement eagerly. She took him in her hands, her fingers caressing the underside of his tip, and running all the way down his length. She was a pro at this, he could tell. He began to go wobbly at the knees, and she eventually wrapped her hand round it fully and started a rhythm, up and down his cock until he physically couldn't take it any longer. Noticing his frustrated pleasure she let him go, and he sighed heavily against her.

He kissed her sloppily, trying to distract himself from his still throbbing dick that longed once again for her touch. They both began to sway with each other in their arms, her head balanced on his chest and his hand slowly making it's way down to her ass again. He kissed the top of her head, rubbing her body with his arms so that she was warm. She looked up at him and flicked his hair, playing with it like no one else ever had before.

'We should get dressed.' She sighed, still holding onto him.

'Maybe.'

'No, we probably should.' She laughed, picking up her clothes and hastily putting them back on again. He reluctantly did the same, until they were more or less back to the way they were an hour before.

'As long as we aren't found out,' she prodded her finger into his chest, smiling, 'and you don't tell anyone about this, okay?'

'Of course not.'

She reached up and took his face in her hands, losing all control of what she was doing and being unable to breathe. Being around her, and being inside her - was intoxicating, and the feeling was still there.

'Til the next time.'

'Clara Oswald.'

'Go. I told you, I don't want you to get into trouble. She did the top button up on his shirt and pressed he lips to his once more. Holding on as much as he could, she finally drew apart.

He smiled at her with every step he took toward the door, until finally he was beside it.

'Goodnight, Clara.'

'Goodnight, Eleven.'

As he paced the corridor he thought endlessly about what he had just done. Their bodies had combined, they had become a part of each other and she told him he was hers. He could still hear her climactic moans ringing in his ear, and her name resounding in his head. He couldn't believe they had just had sex on her desk, but hey, university is a wild ride. His heart thumped to the sight of her panting as he thrust into her, and of the way she held firmly his cock in hand, like she had done it a billion times before. But one memory came back to him that he wished hadn't, one where he had only accidentally remembered as he had listened to her with only half of his ear.

'I'm a married woman' she had sighed against him, and the notion sent him on-edge. So many questions swirled around his head at that moment, but he settled on the simplicity of just one question that summed up everything he felt confused by.

Married?


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Thank you for the reviews, they make my day :)

Clara knew the risks; she knew what could happen. But she decided that she was downright denying her happiness. Feeling him wrapped up in her arms was the best feeling in the world. It wasn't just release from other things, it was the connectivity, the electric shock running through her body and she realised that she had hopelessly fallen for him. Her thoughts directed to that corner in her brain, of that word, 'love.' It was always a tricky subject, something temperamental in her hands that could go either way. Putting it simply, if love was an object she would lose it, drop it, break it, and completely give up on searching for it.

But she had found someone, who not only did she feel immensely comfortable with, but also liked her back. Everything was a muddle inside her head, everything was tormenting her. The hours ticking by on the irritable clock above her head, the hunger in her stomach and the fact she hadn't seen Eleven all day. A scene flashed back to last night, when he had been so close to her she could feel his beating heart, and the way he thrust deep inside her was one that could never leave her head. His smile, his eyes, his laugh. Everything about him appealed to her in such a way. It felt so long ago that he had just walked into her classroom, and they had stared at each other intriguingly, like they knew subconsciously, they were now apart of the other's life. Looking back now she had never dreamed of this happening. Fucking her was one thing, but fucking her on her desk was slightly awkward yet amusing. She had to work on that desk, and people put their hands on it, and she could hardly concentrate on work or on what other people were saying, as it all relayed back to the fact they had sex on it. Chewing her pen thoughtfully she found herself staring at the clock once again for the umpteenth time. She had never felt so alive, so tremendously happy as she did that night, when her dreams came to be reality and she could run his soft, silky hair in her fingers. And that was when it hit her. Oh god, oh god, what had she done? Her head in her hands, she reminisced that scene again, hoping beyond hope he hadn't actually heard. She contemplated banging her head on her desk in frustration, but stopped herself in the very ironic idea.

Why the fuck had she said that? Confusion swirled round her head. It was only a whisper, only an intake of breath that she released which formed into words that were lurking in her mind. Pushed to the forefront without her knowing, it had slipped out in a sigh of relief. This was why she valued herself as a bad person, even though Eleven continuously told her the opposite.

Yes, she was a married woman. Eleven probably knew that now. The next time he saw her he would tell her just how disgusting she was, how cheating on her husband was despicable and that he didn't want anything to do with it. She feared this so much because she knew he was that type of person, and a tear rolled down her cheek as she took a shaky breath. She had ruined it. Ruined it completely, like she did everything else. That object had fell to the floor and smashed, no longer in her hands and no longer disguised from the truth. Her lies had caused her too much already in her life, and now she had only made it worse. Why was she always in such a mess? Why couldn't she just let it all go? She had never worried about him finding out, only the school. He was never the problem. But now of course, he was part of the problem, which had shuffled back into the depths of her mind and hidden so well before she had blurted it out. Thinking of Eleven's disappointed face only made matters worse and she felt relived when she didn't see him again that day.

His hand encircled her wrist, stroking her skin softly as she became enchanted with his eyes staring back at her. He stepped in closer, and the warmth of his body that she had longed for had finally hit her.

He hadn't brought it up yet, and she could tell it was now. Closing her eyes and hoping it would end well, he finally spoke.

'I remember what you said the other night,' he began, 'I wasn't really paying attention at that point but I remembered you saying it afterwards. I'm...I'm confused. You never told me. I just want a straight answer, nothing else. Are you married?'

She couldn't look at him, but felt the force of his eyes weighing down on her and the pressure he applied to her wrist, like he was hoping she would deny it.

'Yes.' She said finally. He too looked down at the ground in something like disappointment, and she had never felt so angry with herself for causing that expression on his face.

'Eleven, look, I'm so sorry, I never meant to actually say that. I don't quite know what to say. But I understand if you don't want anything else to do with me-'

'Of course not.' He told her, and a shock of relief shot down her spine like a bullet.

'What?'

'It doesn't change anything between me and you, does it? Because I don't want it to.'

'But I...I lied to you, I kept you waiting...I told you those weeks ago that you really didn't understand what you were getting into, didn't I?'

'Clara, why would that change us? We're hiding it from the school, surely we can hide it from him.' The way he used her name made her unresponsive for a moment, her eyes pathetically sparkling with tears that didn't spill but didn't subside.

'I'm so sorry.' She said, leaning in for a hug. He wrapped his arms round her generously, kissing her head, 'I don't care about him, I care about you, believe me.'

'Really?'

'I couldn't love someone like that.'

'Like what?'

'Don't worry. I guess we're just as bad as each other. After all, I'm the one cheating on him.'

'Why? What has he done to you?'

The look of concern on his face made her heart swell. When she gave no reply, he wrapped her small fingers in his and kissed them tenderly.

'You do owe me one thing, though.'

'What's that?'

'Who is he?'

The answer stuck like a lump in her throat. She couldn't tell him.

'I-I can't tell you.'

'Why not? You owe me this much.'

'I just...I just can't. He'd go mad.'

'Clara...what's the matter? I can understand you don't love him anymore but...why don't you just leave him?'

She shook her head. 'It's complicated, Eleven. Maybe one day, you'll understand.'

His hands cupped her cheeks, fixing his devoted gaze on her. Slowly, he tilted down until his lips touched hers, and he kissed her leisurely, small kisses that reassured her, supported her, made her feel wanted. It was so very tender and gentle, like they were finally taking time to actually know each other through kisses, figure out which things made the other gasp, or moan or sigh against each other. Her arms enveloped him and they gradually picked up pace, starting to nip at his lip eagerly and he returned with wet kisses trailing from her jaw to her neck, while her fingers fiddled with the buttons on his shirt, and sliding his braces off his shoulders. In response his mouth dominated hers and he dipped her back. She giggled as she was launched backward, holding onto his shirt, whispering to him as he kissed her further. Finally discarding his shirt he knelt down to her level, and together on the ground they embraced each other in a game of brushing lips and caresses. Fondling her carefully, he laid her down, and she beamed up at him. He surrounded her on all fours, and she stroked his cheek as her other traipsed down to his chest, feeling the thin muscle beneath her fingers. She could feel his hands move lower, down to clinch her thighs, travelling lower until they hovered above the place she wanted him most. Almost smashing his face into hers and kissing him aggressively in approval, her fingers slid underneath her skirt. Pulling aside her knickers and slipping a long finger inside her she inhaled sharply. As he dug deeper she rocked herself against him as she felt his fingers slide in her repeatedly and faster, teasing her as his thumb pressed against her folds and she panted with eyes closed, her body not allowing to respond at the overwhelming sensation. He kissed her lips again, and she moaned against his mouth as he added another finger, rocking even more forcefully in need of release. She made a guttural sound in response to his further teasing, and his laugh reverberated and filled her ears, giving her the hope she needed. Finally he gave in to her pleas, and fucked her harder, his fingers buried deep inside her and his other hand pressed to the spot beside her head. As she came her hands trembled, holding on tight to his sides as she released an exhilarated sigh and her head dropped to the floor, out of breath. Collapsing on top of her, he hooked his legs around hers so they were entangled in an embrace. The floor was cold, but she didn't care as his weight bared down on her and she was exposed to his warmth.

'You are the most beautiful woman I've ever met.' He said sincerely.

She smiled, threading through his hair copiously.

'And you are the most adorable.' She replied, leaning his head down to meet hers so their foreheads were touching. They lay like that for a while, entwined, whispering words of sweet devotion to each other while the minutes ticked by. When finally she let him go and watched him walk toward the door, her heart flipped and her stomach churned. He turned the corner, but not before he had poked his head back round the corner to blow her a kiss and smile that gorgeous smile she got caught up in. She stood there for a while, and she realised that without him there, her heart had sunk. The whole room seemed to darken and she felt normal. His presence was overwhelming, and when he wasn't there she felt so alone and deserted. She blinked as it hit her. The butterflies in her stomach, the beating of her heart, it all told her something she couldn't deny. Clara was hopelessly, and irrevocably, in love with him.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

I threw in a few references somewhere - see if you can find them ;)

The next day she saw him, he gave her that knowing smirk, the one that said 'you're standing on the very spot I fucked you.' Trying not to get sidetracked she gave him a flicker of a smile in return before she turned her back to him and focused on the board. It wasn't awkward, it was just very hard to disguise their relationship as something very mutual. The awkward moments were the ones when a student would tap their fingers on her desk and he would raise his eyebrows from the distance. She had complete faith in him; she knew he wouldn't tell anyone.

She felt she was doing well, however. Nothing got in the way of her teaching, which was very fortunate since Eleven had a charm that pulled her in automatically.

'Could you just help me with this, Miss Oswald?' His voice rung out to her and she looked up to see him staring down at her, his book in his hands and a grin on his face. He took it as a joke every time he called her 'Miss Oswald' by her request. She knew how much he wanted to call her Clara, but she wouldn't allow it.

'Have you completed the work due in?' She asked him sceptically.

'No, I'm afraid not.'

'Why?'

'Because I've been very caught up this week. I'm sure you'd understand.' He leaned toward her as he said this, a stupidly adorable smirk on his face.

'I'm finding it so hard not to kiss you right now.' He said, only a fraction louder than a whisper.

'Sssh!' She scolded, her eyes giving her a meaningful look and darting round him to see if anyone had heard.

'Eleven, you need to do you're coursework.'

'Well that's a shame, because I am very busy this week.' He raised his faint eyebrows at her.

He was toying with her, she knew. She had been the one to tell him to come round to the classroom after hours because she had to tell him something. But she valued his education, and knew it was important for him to pass this. With satisfaction, she handed back his book.

'You'll have time to do it, because you'll be doing it tonight. Understand?'

She smiled triumphantly as he made a face.

'But I'm seeing someone, and I can't let her down, because I know how much she wants me.'

'You cheeky bastard.' She said under her breath, only quiet enough for him to hear.

'And I want to see her too. I think she'd understand why I can't do my work.'

'I definitely don't think she would.'

'We'll see about that.'

'I don't think we will, as you are going to catch up on all of you're work tonight or I swear you won't be seeing me for the next three weeks.'

He swallowed, and she smirked, the composure of a teacher conveyed in it.

'Fine. But I think she's going to be very disappointed.' He winked at her and turned away. Shaking her head at him disapprovingly she couldn't help feel slightly angry that she had told him not to see her. But it was for him, for his own future, and that was her priority. His work was very important. She guess she could wait at least another week to tell him.

•••••

The whole ordeal regarding his work was a little too accurate to how it would work out. Every time she would see him in class hours she would ask him about his work, so it wasn't a surprise when she told him to do it, or face the painful consequences. He couldn't deny the way she spoke and raised her eyebrows in satisfaction was way too sexy for him to say no doing the work. If he concentrated very hard, he could do it all in a few hours after dinner and still be able to see her. But, because it was him, it never worked out the way he planned. It started when Twelve jumped up beside him, slapping his shoulders in playful greeting, and asked him about the dance thing that was taking place a few days before Christmas, and if he was going. Eleven wasn't paying much attention, but the thought of going without Clara made the whole affair pointless.

'Will the teachers be there?' He asked.

'Yeah, I expect so,' he laughed, turning to Ten and Nine, 'they'll be making sure we don't get drunk and taking the girls back up to the dorms. Which will, inevitably happen anyway.'

'Which teachers?'

'Probably all the strict ones. But maybe Miss Jones, Mr Williams, Miss Oswald...'

He stopped listening after Miss Oswald's name was said, and longed to see her in a beautiful dress, with a glass in her hand, just a little bit drunk. He also longed to be the one on her arm, dancing with her while her eyes glittered in joy. Yet he knew that sadly, he wouldn't be able to do those things. Sometimes he wished the whole world would stop with cliches and let people be themselves and fall in love with who they wanted, without interference or objection. Then maybe, the world could be a little bit nicer.

'You coming down to the woods?' Nine asked him.

'Uh, no. Gotta lot of work.'

'Who cares about work?' He scoffed.

'Well I do if I get to see Miss Oswald.' He thought to himself.

'I just have a lot to catch up on.'

'And what's with the sneaking out after dinner? You disappear and we can't find you until you're back up in the dorm. What's been going on?'

'Nothing. Just...' He tried to think of an amiable excuse, 'extra tuition.'

'What, every night? Come on mate, what have you really been doing?'

'Nothing!'

'It doesn't sound like nothing.'

'Have you got a girl?' Ten asked, raising his eyebrows.

'N-no.'

'Who is it?'

'I said no.'

'Stop lying to us, Eleven. It won't stay secret for long anyway, will it?'

The last comment threw him off guard and made him stop in his tracks. He was trying so hard to be careful about this delicate relationship they held, not to do anything or say anything that could cause gossip. And yet he knew in the inevitability of it all, it wouldn't stay secret. But he was determined to keep it locked away, so deep in his mind that not even the influence of alcohol could pick it out.

'Can you just stop hassling me!' He shouted, turning round to them. A look of shock crossed all of their faces. It was rarely Eleven would burst out in anger.

'Alright, then! You go fuck off back to you're study and we'll have a good time without you in the woods. You've been fucking pathetic these last few days.' Twelve shoved past him as he said this, putting on his shades as he did.

'Why you even being like this? You never break out in a temper.'

'Well maybe I've lost my patience.'

'Or maybe your friends.'

Ten gave him that meaningful, charming look and then both of them walked past him, leaving him alone in the corridor.

He felt empty as he watched them walk out the doors, and he hung his head shamefully all the way back to his bed, where he got out his work and settled down to write. He wished he hadn't said anything, hadn't shouted at them. He wanted to tell them so badly, but knew he couldn't. It was a struggle because every time he looked at them he knew he should say something, but then his mind caught up and reminded him. What Ten had said about losing friends, and that his relationship wouldn't stay secret for long, hit him hard. It only drove him to be even more cautious than he already was, make sure he held onto what they had with all the strength he could muster and all the time they were given. And then he remembered he had just lost the three most important people to him, his closest friends, who he counted as brothers. And the pain struck him, and he felt stupid for letting it slip away, focusing so much on Clara that his own life was actually crumbling around him like the ruins of a wall. But he would make it up to them; he would apologise and spend more time, albeit he wouldn't tell them of Miss Oswald, at least not yet. He felt like he was betraying both sides, that whatever he did would cause good for one side and bad for the other. As the darkness fell and his hand started to ache, he looked out of the window, where he could vaguely see flashing lights from amongst a canopy of trees. He looked at the time on his alarm, and sighed. He couldn't even see Clara.

••••

'I don't want to lose you.' He mumbled against her skin, holding on tighter with every word he said. It had been three days since he had last spoken to Nine, Ten and Twelve.

'Nobody said it was going to be easy.'

He looked up at her as she cradled him in her arms. He felt so small and vulnerable, and yet being held by her gave him all the comfort he needed.

'It scared me, what Ten said. That it would eventually stay secret no longer. I don't want that to happen, and yet I feel like I owe them. What do I do?' He whispered, caressing her back lightly.

She kissed his head, stroking his hair.

'I don't want you to fall out with you're friends. But you have to understand, we need to keep this secret. I'm not making you choose between them and me, because that would be unfair and cruel. Try find a balance; don't see me every night, because then it will arouse suspicion. Live while you're young, Eleven, go out partying with you're friends, let go, have a good time, like any lad of you're age would. Please don't become fixated with me, I don't want that. I want you to be the same person as you were before you met me. I want you to try harder at you're subjects, be reckless within reason, and try live without regrets. Trust me, I wish I had done that.'

'Really? What did you do instead?'

'It doesn't matter about me. You have to promise me, Eleven, promise me you'll do this.'

Her hands pressed into his hair, and he placed a kiss to her collarbone.

'Okay. I promise I will.'

'Then the first thing you will do is apologise to you're friends.'

'Okay. After this.'

'No!' She laughed, as he flung his arms round her and rose to her level, leaning into her.

'You can't stop me and you know it.' He replied haughtily, grazing her lips with his, feeling her legs swing by the side of his own like an anticipated schoolgirl. She kissed him back, sliding her tongue to explore in his mouth, sighing at the way his hands massaged her breasts and cupped her cheek.

'Mmm...Clara...'

She laughed as she met his hips and rocked against his growing erection almost mercilessly.

'It's funny, but we don't actually know much about each other.'

He tilted his head to look at her. 'What is it with you and random conversation? It's a turn off, seriously.'

She convulsed under him, laughing again, losing the weight of the world as she stared up at him in admirable wonder.

'I wish you could stay with me all night.' She breathed.

'I could. Please, let me.'

'No.'

'Why not?'

'Now whose engaging in conversation?'

'Shut up.' He smiled, continuing on with his ministrations. She met him halfway again, throwing her head back and releasing sighs. She threw him off her in one elegant motion, and he made a sound of protest as he stood alone without her body next to him.

She tied her hair back, smirking at his dumbfounded face.

'Apologise to you're friends. Come back and see me another day. I don't mind when, I'll always be waiting.'

'What?'

'Go on.'

'You can't just cut me off in the middle of-'

She held up a finger, silencing him.

'Yes, I can. Go find them, start partying or something.'

'Can't I just be with you?'

'No, that's the problem. You can't always be with me.'

'Okay, but this is hardly fair.' He pointed to his hard member straining against his jeans. She tried not to laugh, folding her lips inward as he continued to stare at her like a madman.

'Sorry,' She threw her hands up in a surrender, 'but I have work to do as well, as it goes.'

'Yeah well, next time, I'm making you pay for this. Trust me, you'll be as mad as I am now.'

'Okay.' She said, raising her eyebrows.

He shook his head at her as he stared at her innocent grin and kissed her a last time. Her arms rubbed his waist, and then patted his member, 'take care of that.' She giggled, and he stared at her audaciously, unexpectedly smacking her ass as she turned. Winking at her and backing out of the room, she smiled and shook her head at him like he had to her. Sometimes she wondered why she loved him so much. With shock, she realised she hadn't told him yet. But it was for the best, since what she had actually advised him to do was think about her less. This would only set his mind racing, and she was glad, since she wanted him to apologise to his friends. Oh well. It's nothing important anyway.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

'I'm sorry.' He said again, his eyes dropping to the floor.

Ten smiled, patting him on the shoulder.

'It's fine.'

'Now, come join us. It's been wild.' Nine grinned.

Eleven grinned along with him, running toward the throng of people, feeling the music go through his soul, the beats of his heart thumped to the rhythm and his head was spinning. He joined Twelve, where he rocked out to the songs he played. What a feeling to be here, in this group of people he hardly knew, but connected to in a sense of community. Jumping around with enthusiasm he was reminded of that feeling, of living freely. He was glad he had been persuaded.

•••

'Oi, Eleven, we need a favour.' Twelve called out.

'What do you need?'

'We need the numbers.'

'For what?'

'The rugby match.'

'What? No! No, I am not doing rugby. I will get knocked down as soon as it starts.'

'Come on, Eleven. We need a full team. Jack's injured, he can't play. Do this for us, please. Be a quarterback, and if you get knocked out, we'll be fine without you. We just need the full team to start with. Please.'

It was a rare moment when Twelve asked for help, or even said please. He really didn't want to do it; he was so weak and gangly compared to everyone else, literally the last person anyone would choose to put in the middle of a scrum.

'There's so many other people who are much stronger than me. Go talk to them.'

'No, you have to do it, because we'll all be part of it. Me, Ten and Nine play it. We need you to complete The Doctors' smash down! Come on, Eleven, worst case, you could be in the medical wing and miss lessons the next day! What do you say?'

He deliberated, biting his lip as he did so. I guess it couldn't hurt that much, could it? And if he really let the team down, it would only be a direct 'I told you so' to Twelve. He met his turquoise eyes with a sigh of defeat.

'Fine.' He surrendered, and Twelve hollered.

'Wait, when actually is the game?'

'Right now.' He said with a wink.

'What?!'

'You heard me, now get changed quickly. Everyone's waiting down there.' He threw a large rugby kit at him and helmet.

'Oh I am so gonna make you pay for this.'

'Don't worry, it'll be fine. The worst injury we had was only a broken jaw and a fractured spine. You'll be fine.'

Eleven didn't feel quite so reassured at his comment, but put on the kit anyway, just as Twelve did too. It rested on his shoulders like armour, making them look ridiculously disproportionate to the rest of him. For others, it made them look even more muscular and broad. On him, it looked like he was wearing something two sizes too big.

'I can't get this fucking helmet on!'

He grasped with the buckles and the shield round his face. Twelve helped him with it, dressed in the same matching kit but sporting it very differently.

'Come on, let's go. We're already late.'

They hurried down the stairs, and Eleven was already regretting his decision. He knew there was a rugby game on that day, but he didn't know when and never dreamed of participating himself. Rushing out onto the pitch, Eleven looking the weirdest of the lot and supremely out of place, he settled into the group of quarterbacks and looked out at the crowd. They were raising their eyebrows at him, causing quite a stir at his unexpected appearance. Nine looked over at him from his position, smiling encouragingly and giving the thumbs up. He caught sight of Clara, looking confusedly at him and trying not to laugh.

'What the hell are you doing there?' She mouthed.

He just shrugged in reply, observing her face and smiling too much that he didn't even notice the whistle going off. Both sides started to tackle and beat each other, pounding each other into the ground. He saw Ten running with the ball, ready to touch down. Trying his best, he pushed aside a heavy looking opposition player and ran to Ten for support. His teeth were chattering beneath his helmet and he could only just see from his line of vision, but he felt less stupid. A scrum had developed in the centre of the pitch. He ran toward it, reacting quite helplessly to it. He shoved a player aside, trying to get to the middle. Yet a burly man knocked him so hard to the ground he was surprised his skull didn't crack on the dirty ground. He had tossed him aside like a doll, and Eleven saw only stars as his head reeled. The scrum finally dissipated, and a player on their team had hold of the ball. Refusing to be beaten, he bounded over, tackling the guy who had knocked him over ferociously. It wasn't enough though, and Eleven suddenly found himself lying on the floor again. He punched him repeatedly, the jaw, the forehead and multiple on his cheeks. He groaned, his limbs heavy, and his attacker was eventually dragged away from him. His head was spinning, the pain like sharp needles splitting his skin open. Twelve momentarily checked if he was alright, then resumed on with the game. A rush of feet, and then teachers were at his side, looking concerned, their faces blurry and looming above him. The only face he saw and recognised properly before he passed out was Clara's, looking shocked and horrified at the injuries he had sustained. He smiled lazily and relievedly up at her.

'Clara...' He breathed, and then his eyes closed.

••••

The first thing he noticed when he came to was that he was in the medical wing, his face was hurting like hell and he realised that the prediction of his survival in the game had been very accurate. He groaned, his bandaged hand going to his head.

'Hey, hey...take it easy.'

Her voice, soothing him instantly, ringing in his ears like the songs of angels.

'What happened?'

'You scared me to death, that's what happened.'

He smiled. 'Glad to know you care.'

'I always care. Anyway,' she continued, grabbing a cloth and tissue and putting it to the wound on his head, 'you got knocked out pretty hard. Several blows to the cheek, a cut lip, bruised jaw and bleeding head. It's quite a list. Apparently you've been the worst they've had for months.

'Brilliant.' He replied sarcastically.

'What where you even doing out there anyway?'

He sighed. 'Twelve needed the numbers, a full team. He wanted me to go on. It was a very bad idea.'

'Why didn't you just say no?'

'I did. But he told me not to really do anything. But I can't help getting involved.'

'No, I can see that.'

She cleared away the blood on his forehead, kissing it gently. He smiled, laying comfortably on the bed.

'Is the game still going?'

'Yes.'

'And you're the only teacher who abandoned it to care for me?'

She nodded. He threw his arms wide, gesturing her to lay with him.

'I can't.'

'You can if no ones here. I'm ill, and I need curing. Where are you, doctor? I need healing, I need to get better.'

She deliberated quickly, and slid in with him, her head resting on his chest. His arm wrapped round her and he was pleased that he had been knocked out, for this was much better.

'You want me to cure you?' She said, her lip curling upwards.

'Yes, you see, my cut lip is very sore and I need help with that-'

Her lips pressed to his, murmuring against his mouth, with their foreheads touching.

'Its weird doing this somewhere other than the classroom.' He admitted.

'Woah, woah, we're not going the full mile here, Eleven. That stays within the classroom, boy.'

'Who are you calling a boy?'

'You...you adorably stupid, innocent and youthful rugby player that's actually shit at rugby and wears fezzes.'

'Hm,' he smiled, 'that pretty much sums me up.'

'Yeah.' Her fingers tilted his chin lower to kiss him again.

'You're actually my chin boy. Look at that, have you ever actually noticed how big you're chin is?'

'I thought you were supposed to be helping me!'

'Oh yeah, sorry.' Resuming the kissing she let his hands slide up and down her waist while her own embedded in his hair. She was gentle in touching his face as it still hurt, but when he fiddled with the buttons on her blouse she had to stop him.

'No.' She said breathlessly, her forehead touching his and moving his hands away.

'Why not?' He moaned.

'We're out here doing this, I don't even know when the game finishes.'

He clenched her waist in response, causing another shake of the head and laugh at his eagerness.

She eventually collapsed on top of him, until she slid off and hugged his side.

'Don't make me fall asleep.' She said dreamily.

He turned to face her, eyes blazing.

'I wish we could sleep together. Like, properly sleep with each other. I would hold you like this,' he demonstrated, putting his arms round her and leaning her further back onto him, 'and I would wake up in bed the next morning and find you there in my arms...'

'I want it too. But unfortunately, that can't happen.'

'It could.'

'How?'

'Come up to the dorm with me.'

'Eleven, we can't sleep in you're dorm together.'

'Please. Everyone's out there.'

He placed a kiss to her neck, making her shiver.

'You're friends will come back afterwards, though.'

'Not if they win. They hold a massive celebration.'

He could feel his fingers drawing circles on her back.

'And what if they lose?' She turned round to face him.

'We take a chance.' He smiled. Locking lips again she felt almost helpless under his grip. Their lower bodies rubbed together and his hands made it to her shoulders and all the way down to her hips. Breaking away and hearing the heavy breathing that made he instantly and spontaneously aroused she took his hand, and together they ran up the flight of stairs to his dorm room.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

What had happened that night was something he couldn't forget. The feeling of holding Clara in his arms while they slept together had been the most pleasant, special and extraordinary feeling. After a long day and an even longer night they had fell asleep together, both protected and warm with the covers pulled up to their chins. Eleven had held her exactly the way he had wanted to; his arms had circled her body and his nose nuzzled into her soft, brown hair.

He eventually stirred, after he felt her shift round to face him and stroke his hair, whispering.

He smiled under her touch, slowly opening his eyes.

'Clara Oswald...'

'How are you?'

'I am brilliant. I am the happiest I've ever been right now. You feel so good in my arms.'

She chuckled at that, pressing into him closer.

'We shouldn't have come up here, taken the risk. But it was worth it.'

'Yeah, it seems like they did win the rugby after all. Which left us in a very,' he leaned in, grazing his lips with hers, 'comfortable,' his hands took hold of her waist, 'position.' She laughed as he continued what had been left since last night, and it wasn't until she spied the alarm clock on his bedside table that her eyes widened even further. Reluctantly breaking off from the kiss, she sat up and observed her surroundings. Luckily, no one else was in bed. It was 2 am, so no one had come back from the celebration yet. At least not Eleven's friends.

'Shit...shit!' She cursed, picking up her clothing discarded around the bed and hastily shoving them back on. Eleven sat up in bed too, looking a trifle confused. The fact she could see his chest from where the duvet ended at his waist wasn't any guidance that helped her dress quicker.

'What's the matter?' He asked blindly.

'Well, if you hadn't noticed, I am sitting in you're bed naked at two in the morning when I should be at home, and not with one of my English students.'

'I'm just 'one of you're English students' now, am I?'

'No, no, baby, not like that.' She reassured him, while still dressing herself hurriedly.

'And you mean you should be home with you're husband.' He said bitterly.

'Please don't ruin the moment.'

'What moment? We didn't have a moment.'

'Don't get sulky like a child, Eleven.'

'If you are married, why is you're name Miss Oswald, and why don't you wear a ring?' He cut across, his tone a little angrier and annoyed than usual.

'Its complicated, okay? Don't worry about it.'

'Don't worry about it? We've slept together and you're in my bed, while you're husband's at home in the bed you should be in. Don't pretend like I don't need to know, because I do.'

'Eleven, please, don't bring it up,' she took both of his hands in her own, pleading with her eyes as she took a breath, 'I will explain everything, I will, I promise. But for now, I'd like to take this memory away as one of the best I have. Please.'

His eyes faltered, and his face shone half lit in the moonlight, making it even more beautiful and angelic than it already was.

'Okay.' He accepted quietly, finally staring her in the eye and giving a small smile.

'I know I'm being difficult, but it's the way it has to be right now. And,' she started to smile, patting his cheek, 'why were you in the middle of a rugby game when you don't know what the hell you are doing? What were you trying to do?'

'I don't...I don't actually know. Twelve told me to be a quarterback, so-'

She couldn't help the laughter.

'I don't think Twelve knows what being a quarterback is, either.'

'What?' He stared at her.

'Or most likely, he told you that so you looked like a twat. He probably still hadn't forgiven you fully yet. If if was a prank, it definitely worked.'

'Why?'

'You were standing with the offending team.' And at that point her laughter became woven with her speech, unable to help herself.

'He knew you'd be shit at playing, and wouldn't know what to do in any position you were in.'

He only sat there, his mouth forming an 'o'.

'Why didn't you tell me?'

'Oh, I didn't want to upset you.'

He fell backwards into the bed, staring at the ceiling in mock despair.

'I'm never playing rugby again. And definitely not with Twelve.'

'Why'd you do it in the first place?'

'I still felt a little guilty from when I shouted at them.'

'Okay, well next time don't play at all.'

'Aw, come on, lets not talk about rugby.'

'Well, I have to go.'

He made a sound of protest that made her laugh even harder.

'I'll see you in the morning. For now, I better get back.'

He sighed exasperatedly, murmuring assent.

She kissed him one last time, both holding on as long as they could.

'I don't want you to go.' He whispered as they broke apart and her thumbs stroked lovingly at his cheek.

'I know. But it would also be a sight if you're friends came in to bed and saw me here.'

He laughed, looking at the floor, 'I guess so.'

A pause of silence, just making the moment last longer than it should.

'Eleven, I-'

They both turned their heads to the window, where a loud bang had sounded and cheap, rocket fireworks whizzed round the air outside, streaking flashes of light around the throng of people making they're drunken way toward the building.

Clara smiled at him, and then departed, speed walking as fast as possible toward the exit before anyone could spot her. So close. She was so close to saying it until the bloody fireworks had distracted her. Making her way toward the car park and her motorbike, she revved the engine. Watching the stars as she drove round the corner, her thoughts suddenly turned to what and who were waiting back home. She didn't know what the 'perfect excuse' would be this time. Dreading the moment she killed the engine, she embraced the cool wind on her face in the meantime, a dreamy and appreciative smile on her face. Taking the familiar route home, she finally took off her helmet and climbed off her bike, facing the whitewashed wall of her house. Inhaling a breath, she fit the key into the lock, and opened the door.

••••

He was woken by a crashing sound. His eyes opening groggily, the light shining painfully into them, he inspected a black-clad figure that was sprawled on the floor, face down in the carpet.

'Nine?'

No answer. Eleven quickly put on some jeans and crouched down to shake his shoulder.

'Nine, Nine, wake up.'

A groan, a stir of limbs, and finally a massive roll away from him.

'Mate, you're on the floor!' He laughed, shaking him again.

He yawned, stretching into a crawling position until he was on all fours. The sight was bizarre to watch. He looked like a cat. Scuttling back to bed, he jumped onto it, his head hitting the pillow and his snoring a sign of instant sleep.

'What are you doing? We have lessons!'

'No we don't.' He mumbled, his speech almost incomprehensible. Eleven stood over his bed reproachfully.

'We won the rugby game. They decided to give us all a day off as we WON THE LEAGUE!' he shouted, words still slightly muffled.

'Really?' He raised his eyebrows.

'Yeah!'

'Okay...'

'So we get to do anything we want. And it's only for the rugby team itself, so that technically means you get the day too. Everyone else has to do work.'

'Is that why Twelve told me to do the rugby?'

He sniggered, 'yeah. And also to make you look like a prat.'

'Thought so.'

'Seriously, that was quite funny. What the hell were you doing?'

'I was wondering that myself.'

'Well, now you know never to trust Twelve again.'

'Yep. Learnt my lesson.'

He sauntered back over to his bed, where he opened up his messages on his phone. After recently acquiring Clara's phone number, he had been texting her at every opportunity he got. And he was glad to hear she never got tired of them.

'Do you have a free period today?' He wrote.

Only five minutes later, she replied.

'3rd. Why?'

'Rugby players from the game yesterday get the day off.'

'Are you sure you do, then?'

He laughed aloud, shaking his head. This is what he got from dating an English teacher.

'Yes, it was why Twelve made me do it in the first place, to get me a day off.'

'And to make you look a fool.'

'Yeah. I'll see you third, then.'

Ten woke up, yawning and stretching.

'Ugh. I need to shave.' He commented, feeling the prickles on his chin. Lumbering out of bed and wiping his eyes he gave a sleepy smile to Eleven as he passed to the bathroom, but not before he noticed something in his bed.

'What's that?' He questioned, eyes going wider and brightening with flaming curiosity.

Eleven saw what he was looking at and his heart skipped a beat.

'Uh...uhmm..' He stammered, looking helplessly from him to the thing lying shamelessly on the bed.

'Whose are they?' He inquired further, pointing to the pair of knickers, a knowing smile forming.

'Uhh...' He said again.

'Oi, Twelve, Nine! Look what Eleven's got in his bed.'

Before he could even put his head in his hands in shame, the both of them joined Ten and raised their eyebrows.

'Whose are they, then?'

He crossed his arms, waiting for an answer Eleven couldn't tell.

'Why do you need to know?'

'Because you've clearly just fucked a girl.'

'Come on, just tell us.' Nine added.

'But why do I have to tell you?'

They stared at him, all quite shocked. Eleven had said to himself he would tell them what had happened, yet now he was in the very situation he couldn't. He turned away, not meeting his dishonest eyes, and walked to the bathroom.

'At least let me go in there first!' Ten exclaimed at him, but the door only closed shut in response. Eleven didn't know what to do. Should he just tell them? They were like his brothers, after all. Yet a tugging thought at the back of his mind challenged this. Would they tell everyone else? As the news was so odd it would bound to spread. Twelve had already proven to him that he couldn't be trusted. He heard them mutter and slowly wander off from the door, which he stayed behind. Finally unlocking the door, he saw the place deserted. Must have gone down for breakfast, he thought. Getting dressed he knew he couldn't keep diverting the subject, that he would actually have to tell them. The morning went slowly, and he decided to spend it in his bed for the duration, boringly catching up on late work. He checked the time, waiting for the bell to go so he could see Clara again. And just possibly give back the clothing she had left. Flicking his pencil against the surface of his book, he leant back and counted the number of marks left on the walls from injuries and larking about. He noticed a few had been caused by themselves, and he smiled reminiscently at the memories. He was so conflicted. It felt like every choice he took would end badly. And both options had their repercussions. He would try talk to Clara about it, if he could. It seemed she wasn't open to sharing much about her own life, and a part of him was annoyed with that. If she could unashamedly sleep with him, she could also tell him the basic information. With shock he realised it had been such a physical attraction they hadn't even got to known each other in terms of interests and preferences, which were of course, very important to know. He didn't even know her favourite colour, her favourite foods, favourite flower. Things so simple that made all the difference of knowing a person. So that was what he was determined to do. As the alarm sounded and woke him awake from his thoughts, he bolted down to her classroom, where the last few students were leaving.

'Clara.' He called, running up to her and smiling.

'Eleven. Are you okay?'

'Yeah.'

Once they were alone he held her face in his hands and kissed her, almost desperately.

'I need to know, what's you're favourite colour?'

'Blue. Why?'

'Same as me.'

'Why?' She repeated, confused.

'We haven't actually gotten a chance to talk. Properly talk, about what we love and hate, about all the simple things that need explaining.'

'Okay.' She said cautiously. He took a seat opposite her. Looking closer she could see faint shadows under her eyes, and her face looked oddly...bruised. Like she had hurt it, especially her cheeks.

'What's happened to you're face?'

She waved him off yet again. 'Oh, it's nothing. Don't worry.'

'No!' He exclaimed, his hand coming down to rest on top of hers.

'Stop telling me not to worry because it will only make me worry more! I've had enough of not talking about things important!'

'I just can't-'

'No, that's not the answer. You need to tell me what's happened to you're face, why you don't wear a ring and who you're husband is.'

Her mouth formed a thin line, and he could see she was feeling guilty.

'Its nothing, I just, um, knocked myself.'

'It doesn't look like that to me. You've been hit. And I want you to tell me who it was.' He said more forcefully.

She shook her head as he leant closer, inspecting the bruises with hurt in his eyes. His thumbs stroked them, and his voice cracked.

'Who did this to you?' He asked, eyes shining with uncontrollable tears. The thought of someone even laying a finger on her made him feel sick.

'Please, please don't cry.' She told him, holding his face in her hands the same way and eyes starting to water too.

'Please just tell me.' He breathed, kissing the back of her hand.

'I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.'

'Don't say sorry. Tell me who it was.'

In answer, she locked his lips, and Eleven got heavenly caught up in her, so much so, he forgot his own name. The tears started to run down their cheeks together, and he could taste the saltiness on her lips, sweet and beautiful. He touched her everywhere he could reach, drawing her closer, until she was practically sitting on his lap, legs in their usual position round his waist and he leaned back. She was higher than him, weighing him down as he tilted his head to kiss her and he absentmindedly pushed away the clutter on her favoured desk. Undressing get slowly, he kissed her shoulders and held onto her tenderly. Once their clothes were abandoned on the floor, he rubbed against her eagerly until she allowed him entrance, eliciting a moan that made Eleven shudder in response. He laid her down fully, gasping at the sensation that was claiming him.

With a chuckle she commented on the red fez he wore, and he placed it on her own head. Wrapping his arms tight around her he buried himself deeper inside her, creating a string of curse words and moans. Their lips clashed together with violent passion as he thrust harder and harder, causing the thrill of pleasure he appreciated while she groaned his name in his ear.

'Clara!?'

A voice interrupted them and with lightning speed they threw themselves off each other as the man stood in the doorway, eyes flaming with anger and his fists clenched. Eleven nervously took the fez, covering his cock with it bashfully as his face turned violently red. He realised the person was one of his maths teachers.

'Danny.' She said, her hands trembling.

'What the fuck are you doing?'

She gave no answer.

'Who the fuck is this?' He asked, and he made toward Eleven with raised fists, his face a raging bull of hate and anger.

'No!' Clara ran up to him, stopping his movement toward Eleven.

'Don't you fucking dare lay a hand on him.' She warned. He looked between each person, confused out of his mind.

'Clara?' He called fearfully.

She sighed, turning to him.

'This is Danny, he teaches maths. And...' She broke off her sentence.

'Go on,' Danny persisted, giving her a push toward him with disgust, 'tell him.'

Eleven's teeth bared at the push, and she finally looked directly into his eyes.

'He's my husband.'


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Eleven looked from Clara to Danny, his mouth wide open in shock.

'You're husband...is a maths teacher. At this uni.'

'Yes.'

His head dropped, and he took a moment to retrieve his jeans and replace them with the fez. At the same time Clara did, putting on her clothes silently as she watched Danny nervously.

'Why haven't you taken his name, then? Why don't you wear a ring?'

'We didn't want it to be known we were married.'

'Like you didn't want our affair to be known, either.' He retorted bitterly.

She looked guiltily at him.

Danny stood behind her and pushed his way forwards, trying to hurt him. Clara once again defended him, screaming at her husband to leave him alone.

'You fucked my wife!'

'She doesn't love you!' He retaliated.

He swiped at him, Eleven narrowly ducking.

Danny looked murderous, turning toward Clara and his eyes afire.

'You do love me, don't you?' He told her, taking her shoulders almost forcefully, 'don't you?'

'No, I don't.'

'Say it again.'

'I don't.'

And his hand raised. Eleven threw himself at him, but he only flung him away. He realised that what had caused the bruise on her cheek was the man standing right before him, about to do it again. No wonder she didn't want to talk about it, kept avoiding his questions, wanted to sleep with him so recklessly despite her fear of being caught. She was lonely, she was hurt, both physically and mentally from an abusive and unwanted marriage. He was her comfort, the person she could depend on to bring her a little light back into her life. Despite his efforts and shouts of protest, Danny still managed to hit her across her cheek. Eleven was filled with rage, building up inside him for what he had just done, and for the protection of the woman he loved. Yes, he loved her. He knew it deep down, in every fibre of his being that there was an unconditional love for Clara lying there, waiting to be exposed. And that was what made him do it. Before he could hurt her again, Eleven punched him with all the strength he had in him, and for a moment Danny just looked shocked. He stumbled backwards from the aftermath of the hit and Eleven was immensely surprised it had taken such an effect.

'I never liked maths anyway.' He spat at him, fists clenched.

'Why did you do that?' She exclaimed, turning her gaze to him.

'Did you just see what he did to you? How long have you endured this?'

'It doesn't matter, we need to-'

'It does matter, stop saying that to me!' He shouted, taking her hand away, 'how long?' He asked forcefully.

She looked defeatedly down to the floor and whispered her answer.

'Three years.'

First it came as a shock. And then even more inexplicable anger. How could a person take such advantage of someone so beautiful and unique as Clara? Why would anyone do that to someone else?

'Why didn't you tell me?'

'Because I didn't want to burden you with my own problems. Everyone has enough of their own and all I wanted was someone to be there for me like you have, and for that I am truly grateful.'

Although kind words they were, it didn't sound like Clara; it sounded robotic and formal, like she was addressing him as she would anyone else. He was about to respond, when she silenced him with a raised hand and he felt like a young and foolish school kid.

'We can talk later, Eleven, about all of it, I don't mind.'

'You will pay for this. I will make you're life hell for as long as you continue to stay here, you little shit.' Danny interrupted, his hand wiping away blood.

'Do whatever you want to me, stay away from Clara.'

He laughed manically, 'She's my wife, I can do whatever I want to her.'

'No. I'm not letting her anywhere near you.'

He smirked, beginning to back out with a crazy smile on his face. 'You pay for her shelter and her food and her clothes, then.'

'Gladly.' He replied coldly, following him with hard, staring eyes as he finally turned and walked out the room.

'Why? Why did you marry him in the first place?'

'I made a mistake, Eleven. A mistake that cost me three years of my life-'

She burst into sudden tears and he took her in his arms immediately. He felt close to tears himself at the sight of her crying. He rocked her gently side to side, kissing her lips softly and wiping away her tears.

'I knew I hadn't made a mistake when I met you.' She whispered.

'It's okay. I won't let him hurt you any longer. Never again.'

'But it's like he said, I put up with him for all that time because I had nowhere to run to, he paid for everything as a bribe. He had already threatened to-' she choked on her still flowing tears.

'Don't you worry, I'm taking care of you. I'll always take care of you, from this moment. I don't care what anyone says, like that I'm too young for you. I never want you to feel this pain, ever, ever again.'

'How are you honestly going to do all of this?'

'Why don't you stay at uni with me?' He proposed, taking her hand.

'I couldn't. It would be too risky.'

'I can tell my friends about us, they won't tell anyone.'

'They wouldn't want their bloody English teacher sleeping in the same room as them.'

'Well it's their problem, then. If I told them everything, they would understand.'

'Do you have to tell them everything? I don't want my past known to everyone. I can barely handle it myself.'

'I don't want to lose you, please.'

She responded by kissing him sweetly, and he took her waist and pulled her closer.

'We'll all keep it secret. I promise.'

'I feel so freaking helpless...so vulnerable.'

'You're not. You're strong, stronger than me, stronger than everyone. You kept that hidden for all those years when you must have wanted to tell someone.'

'I'll need to go home before he does...pack some clothes. I'll come back, make up some lie.'

'Let me come with you.'

She shook her head, her hand reaching up to the beginning of his hair like she was holding on from falling.

'I have the day off, remember? Come on, I'll help you.'

She looked into his eyes and they were full of warmth, glimmering in the light and making him feel like melting into the ground. She had the most beautiful, persuading eyes he had ever seen.

'Okay.' She allowed, and kissed him again, for so long that the bell had already gone. Clara told the attendance assistant that she was going back home to get her much needed medication, so a cover could teach her next class for her. Together, they climbed on Clara's motorbike and Eleven felt a rush go through him as he wrapped his hands round her waist. He comfortingly leaned into her while she drove, kissing her shoulders and somewhat making her distracted. Her laugh caught on the wind, her smile lit up the trees and he rested his head on her shoulder, admiring her and smiling in turn.

They finally parked in the driveway, and with a look to the house, Eleven could see how sickeningly perfect it was. It looked so innocent and beautiful like it wasn't capable of holding such pain in its walls.

He could see her hands shaking as she slipped her key into the lock, and he held them steady, caressing the trembling skin soothingly. They made their way to the bedroom, where she hurriedly packed a set of clothes and essentials into a fitting bag that could be concealed more or less with ease at uni.

'Hey, let me help.' He said softly, taking her hand, 'low down, darling.'

He slid his fingers through hers as she watched her stare fixedly at the clothes that were bundled up in the bag.

'I don't want to be here long,' she explained, 'too many memories.'

'I understand.' He said, hugging her from behind. He rubbed her skin, warming her with his hands as she continued packing until she was finished.

She turned and greeted his lips, shutting her eyes tight closed, holding onto this dream that was also a reality, touching this beautiful man in front of her, feel him press further and kiss harder.

They stayed that way for a while, until he walked backwards blindly and hit the bed. Lowering down on it she pushed him downwards even more until he was looking up at her. Taking her in his arms, she kissed his lips slowly, kinetically, letting him fall apart under her as she touched him. For a while after they just laid there, heartbeats set against each other and her breath tickling his ear as he held her on top of him.

'New memories.' He whispered, and she smiled, blindly stroking his cheek while she concentrated on the beating of his heart.

'We've been here a long time.' She said, examining the clock that told her they had spent two hours there.'

'I want to stay longer.' He told her , wiggling his eyebrows, 'round two?'

Giggling, she lowered her lips to his in a long and tender kiss.

••••

By the time they got back, everyone was at dinner, and Eleven realised just how much he now appreciated Twelve's motive of getting him on the rugby team. He wouldn't have done any of this if it wasn't for him. Clara told the staff she had run out of medication and had had to go to the doctors in explanation of her long-winded absence while Eleven took her bag upstairs to sit beside his bed.

A few minutes later she came up, and her arms drew round his waist peacefully.

'Thank you so, so much. I can't tell you how grateful I am.'

'Anything for you.'

Yes, she was a married woman. But right now, as they packed away her clothes in his drawers, it felt so domestic, like she was married to him. They certainly acted like a married couple, and she decided she didn't mind this at all.

'That's all done.' He said, rubbing his hands together in finality as she hugged his side.

Just then, Twelve, Nine and Ten walked in, laughing, and stopping dead in tracks as they saw them there. He turned his head, letting go of Clara and walking toward them.

'Eleven, what the fuck is going on?' Ten asked.

'I need to tell you something. Sit down, don't say anything, just listen.'

They obeyed him, each sitting on their bed and their eyes swivelling from Clara to him with confusion and bewilderment.

And he began to tell them, tell them everything. Everything he had wanted to say but couldn't. A pause of silence followed soon after his speech, in which he had never seen them so quiet.

'I know it's weird. I know she's our English teacher. But she needs to stay here, with me. After everything that's happened. I hope that's alright.'

'I can't believe this.' Ten laughed.

'It does explain a lot, though. Like why you wouldn't tell us who had been sleeping in you're bed. Nice underwear, by the way.' Twelve said, to which Clara blushed violently.

'Is it okay, though? I know it's strange, that she will be staying here but I've wanted it for a long time.' Eleven said, looking at each of them with pleading eyes.

'Yeah, sure,' Nine said, 'it is fucking strange, very strange, but we can tolerate it. Unless,' he said, averting his eyes to her, 'she's going to stop us from doing certain things 'cause she's a teacher.'

Eleven's nonexistent eyebrows raised. He hadn't though about that. He turned to Clara, as did everyone else.

'I'm only you're teacher in the classroom. I'll pretend not to see.' She smiled.

'Brilliant.' Nine said, flipping up a box of cigarettes.

'Cool.' Twelve said, playing a chord on his guitar.

'I can't believe our maths teacher did that to you,' Ten said, 'he's a real dickhead.'

Twelve smiled down at Ten, a cigarette between his lips, 'I reckon he needs punishing.'

'No, no please don't do anything.' Clara interrupted.

They all agreed not to, but to Eleven's relief he saw the wink Twelve gave him. That man deserved whatever was coming for him for what he had done. He nodded in approval, and Twelve smiled.

'Fine by me. But for the sake of our sanity, try not to do anything disturbing. Just keep it down, alright?' He smirked, turning away and collapsing onto his bed.

Clara blushed again, but when she turned to him she threw her arms round him and held him tight. Eleven laughed at her many praises, and kissed her lingeringly.

'That counts as disturbing.' Twelve called, and they broke apart immediately, both blushing this time.


	13. Chapter 13

Thank you for all the lovely reviews :)

Chapter 13

It had surprisingly gone smoothly so far. They had sworn not to tell anybody, yet when they saw her again in English, they burst out laughing.

'This is so weird.' Ten commented, settling down in his seat.

'I know.'

'It's like 'I've seen you in you're pyjamas and now you're teaching me English'.' Nine added.

'Yeah, except it was a little different for me.' Eleven smiled knowingly.

'Oooh, I bet it was. What did you do, have sex on the desk?'

What Ten had said was so accurate he spluttered, developing into laughing.

'Oh my fucking god, you have, haven't you?' He asked incredulously, 'you've actually had sex on that desk.'

Eleven couldn't help the laughter that escaped him.

'I wouldn't touch it if I were you.'

'Aw man, that's fucking gross.' He laughed along with him, until Clara spotted them.

'Eleven, Ten, pay attention.'

'Yes, Miss Oswald.' He grinned brightly at her, and a glimmer of the same smile flickered on her face until she turned to talk to a student.

••••

Life was very sweet at the moment. No one had found out about Clara staying up in their room yet, and Ten, Nine and Twelve had taken the new arrangement well. From what they had told him, they all really liked her. She was cool, a good person to talk to, and swore just as much as they did, which to them was 'awesome.' They were fast approaching firm friends, and Twelve had even gone as far as to invite her to his next party, to which she had to decline for obvious reasons.

'Told ya you'd get someone by the end of term.' He had winked, and Eleven had shook his head, smiling. Things were brightening up, and with Christmas not too far away, his spirits had lifted tremendously. In fact, it was dangerously close to the dance.

'So, what are you gonna do for that?' Nine asked him.

'I honestly don't know. It's not like I can just say to everyone 'yeah, I'm going with Miss Oswald' can I?'

'No. We do want you there, though.'

'Oh, well, me and Clara were just going to have a night in.'

'Aw, come on, come with us. Clara will still be there, you just won't be able to get friendly with her. It wouldn't hurt to have a good time with the lads, would it?' He raised his eyebrow.

Eleven laughed. 'No, it wouldn't.'

'We'll get drunk and have a good time, come on, it'll be great.'

'Yeah, okay. I'll talk to Clara about it.'

'Cool.'

He held up his fist in respect, which he bumped gladly. Later that night he told her about it.

'Will you be going?'

'I wasn't initially. But if you're there, I will. I just wish I could actually spend the evening with you.'

'I know.'

She moved in closer, kissing him twice as she muttered to him, and Twelve walked past, shouting 'gross' at them. They both laughed, still hugging each other.

'You know, I forgot to tell you. When we were at you're house, I wrote a little note.'

'What?'

'Left it on the bed for Danny.'

'Oh god, what did it say?'

'C and E were here.' He laughed. She gasped, hitting him playfully.

'You cheeky bugger.'

He continued laughing, and the creases by her eyes also lifted up into laughter.

'Come on, I'm tired.' She said, taking his hands and leading him toward their bed. Eleven had to admit, she looked irresistibly adorable in those pyjamas. She had shorts on and a low hanging top that gave him perfect view of her breasts. Following along, he slipped in beside her. He wrapped her up in his arms, calling out to Twelve to turn the lights off.

'Wait there, mate, still shaving!'

He sighed mockingly, sinking down on his pillow to stare at Clara. Every night sleeping with her in his bed was one of the things he looked forward to. It felt absolutely amazing, and now he could do it without question each night. Finally the lights went out, and her eyes sparkled in the darkened room. Everyone else was asleep, yet they were still awake, stroking and admiring each other.

'Night.' He said, leaning down to kiss her. He couldn't believe how domestic it felt, to kiss her just before they went to bed, like they were married. He chuckled at the thought, and she stirred at the low rumbling coming from his stomach.

'What's so funny?' She whispered.

'You. Just you, with you're domestic kisses and beautiful body.'

He could tell she was smiling.

'Oh, really?' She replied, and he felt her hand snake to the inside of his thigh, squeezing it gently and pressing into him.

'Really. Very really. Clara-'

'Sshh.' She silenced him, as she grinded against his cock and his hands held her shoulders.

He pressed kisses over her shoulder to her neck, to her breasts as he felt his member enlarge against her arse.

'Mmm..Clara.' He whispered again wantingly.

'It's been a while.' He nibbled her ear and grazed his hands over her curves.

She snorted, 'it's been a week.'

'Exactly, a long time.'

She chuckled, and withdrew from his grasp. Instead, she rolled on top of him and removed his t-shirt.

'Do you want to see more of my body?' She asked, raising her eyebrows.

He nodded, entranced. Sliding off her top and then her bra, she lowered herself down on him, pressing a finger to his lips and then kissed him, all the while teasing him as she continued to grind mercilessly against him. Every time he tried to pull down her shorts she slapped his hands away. His tongue swirled inside her mouth, the only part he had control of.

'Clara, please.' He whimpered frustratedly.

'Shh.' She said yet again, as she pulled down his own trousers, and released his hard cock from his pants. Wrapping her hand around it, she swirled her tongue over the skin, tickling him lightly before slowly taking him in her mouth, making him gasp sharply. The sounds he made sent a craving desire through her, and an urge to feel him inside her. Resting atop him, she slowly sunk down on his erection, making him moan louder, which again she had to silence. Their lips clashed together violently and his hands threaded deliciously through her hair until she felt dizzy. Their bodies aligned perfectly, hips thrusting to meet each other and the climax all too perfect as she collapsed in his arms and he kissed her head.

'You are incredible.' He told her, the sincerity in his voice so genuine it made her heart burst.

Turning to face him she planted one last kiss on his lips before she fell asleep, her head on his chest and her arms round his neck. With a lingering smile that never faltered, her eyes fluttered closed and she drifted off in his arms.

••••

'Morning.' She said, stretching slightly as he looked down at her, the floppy hair she so adored dangling into his eyes. Her hands glided over his naked chest and she realised she was just as exposed as him.

'Morning, beautiful.' Placing a kiss to her cheek, she began to slip into her pyjamas before anyone else woke up. She also made Eleven put his trackies back on too, but insisted she leave his chest bare.

Drawing circles, she finally told him everything he had wanted to know.

'So, let me get this right: you're favourite chocolate bar is a kitkat, you love butterscotch ice cream, favourite movie is Aliens and Shrek, and you have a fear of you're own toes.'

'Pretty much.'

'Oh, and you have a thing for Jane Austen. Am I right in assuming-'

'Maybe.' She cut him off, looking up at him with her large, fluttering brown eyes.

'Gotta say, that's so goddamn sexy.' She giggled as he pressed butterfly kisses to her skin all the way from her elbow to her shoulder.

'Tell me about you.'

'Oh, I'm boring.'

'No, you're the most adorable, beautiful, interesting person I've ever met, so keep taking.' She ordered him between kisses. He smiled his lopsided grin that set her heart on edge.

'I've always dreamed of flying up to the stars, and I always manage to eat the last sausage roll and every time I put on socks I remember how much I used to love playing with sock puppets as a child. As you can see, I was a sad kid, playing with bloody socks on my hands like they were masterpieces.'

'No, I think it's cute. I used to always pretend to be a movie star, act out scenes from films. And actually I've always shared that dream of flying to the stars or other planets.'

'Maybe we should go there some day.'

'I don't need to go anywhere to see the stars.' She said, turning to look straight into his eyes. He stared back at her, and for a moment they stayed that way.

'I used to sing a lot, too. In the shower, mostly. Never was any good, though.' She confessed. He pulled her tighter and toward him, a smirk on his face.

'Could I join in?'

She raised her eyebrows, replying with a voice like silk as her fingers danced along his skin.

'With what, the shower or the singing?'

'How about both?'

He grinned, leaning down to meet her lips and massaging her shoulder as he did so. She giggled against his mouth and a shout came from behind them.

'Cut it out!' Nine called, rolling to the other side of his bed to avoid eye contact.

'Yeah, we can't even get girls up here because Clara is, so respect our space and our sanity.' Twelve joked, walking past them to the bathroom.

'Glad they don't know what happened last night, then.' He whispered to her, and her eyes lit up devilishly.

'No, I imagine we would have been kicked out by now.' She agreed.

•••••

He hadn't been let in on any kind of plan, but he knew something was up. Ten, Nine and Twelve were all discussing something he couldn't hear. It was his worst subject and teacher next, and by no surprise he was still feeling shaken up from the last lesson they had had, with Danny outright picking on him and making his whole experience miserable. Of course, he hadn't told Clara about it and everything was absolutely perfect, except for this one little thing. He had come to dread every time he stepped through the doorway yet valued himself just a little bit stronger every time he exited.

As they made way to their next lesson, he could hear distinctly his friends' laughter and became highly suspicious of what was going on. It seemed he only had to wait a few minutes to find out.

As he sat down in maths and the class begun, his usual bubble of hatred rose up into his throat like it always did when he saw Danny. The fact he still had to be in the same room as him was sickening, and that was probably something his friends had caught on. Plus, he had lived up to his word already; he had been making Eleven's life hell.

'Today, we're doing advanced percentages.'

And all from there, it started.

'Sir, what is the percent of people abused in the country?' Ten asked innocently, and for a moment the teacher stumbled in his answer. Ten smiled at how taken aback he was.

'I-I don't know.'

'But you should, shouldn't you? You teach statistics, after all.'

'Sir, what is the percentage of people who get forced to do things they don't want to?' Nine asked, 'it's for an essay we had set by Miss Oswald. I thought you would know the figures, being a maths teacher.'

At the mention of her name he literally stumbled back, looking from one student to the other and the veins throbbing in his head nervously. Eleven was amazed at what they were doing. Next was Twelve, and as he was famous for his angry persona and raging alter ego, no one was better to do it than him.

He stood up from his chair, fixing his shades, and strode all the way up to Danny, who despite his stature, looked actually quite frightened. Twelve stopped only an inch set between them and then burst into an outrage of shouts.

'SIR, DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY PEOPLE IN THIS WORLD LEAVE OTHERS BECAUSE OF HOW THEY HAVE BEEN TREATED? DO YOU KNOW THE PERCENTAGE OF PEOPLE WHO HAVE BEEN SCARED SO MUCH THEY HAVE COMMITTED SUICIDE? DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG YOU GET IN PRISON FOR ABUSING SOMEONE?'

Danny couldn't make a sound. As only Nine, Ten, Eleven and Twelve knew the context of what they were talking about the rest of the class looked plenty confused, but watched on in fascination as Twelve's angry eyebrows flared.

Twelve eyed him, and he stood up to stand exactly where he was, right in front of Danny.

'You will stay away from me,' he threatened, his voice dripping with danger, 'and Clara.'

'And you ain't gonna make Eleven's life hell either.' Nine called.

'Listen to me, and you listen good. You will stop making my friends life miserable and keep away from Clara otherwise you really will find out how long you stay in prison for. Get it?' Twelve said, 'you monstrous fucking dickhead.'

The whole class erupted with incredulous laughter as he said that, and together Eleven, Twelve, Nine and Ten walked out the room. This time, Eleven felt as strong as everyone else, and triumphant at finally getting to say what he wanted to say.

'Aw, that was brilliant. Thanks guys, really.'

'Its fine. We'll all probably get kicked out anyway, so it was worth it.'

'Yeah. Let's go down to the woods, spend the hour there.' Nine suggested.

'That was pretty awesome. When you shouted and swore at him! That was the best.' Eleven praised Twelve.

'You think? I put a lot of practice into that.'

'Yeah. He was raving at the bathroom mirror for a week.' Ten laughed, and together they strode off to the grounds of the building. Hopefully, it had all been set behind them.

••••

'You did WHAT?' Clara faced him, her eyes widening and her stare making him feel slightly uncomfortable.

'We had to. It was pretty good, actually-'

'You can't go around shouting at teachers, even if they have done bad things! You could have got kicked out! All of you, do you realise how much risk you put you're education in favour of proving a teacher wrong on that scale? Everyone's talking about it.' She addressed the whole room.

'We needed to do this. We had to.' Nine said in defence.

'You don't have to focus on me, concentrate on your future and your learning.'

'It wasn't just for you, it was for Eleven too.' Twelve explained.

'What?' She turned to him, his eyes not meeting hers.

'When he said he'd make his life hell...he kinda did.'

Eleven said nothing. Clara closed her eyes in shock.

'I'm gonna kill him,' she whispered, 'I'm gonna fucking kill him. What did he do to you?'

'He just sort of took everything out on me. That's all. He won't do it again, I promise.'

Her breathing became heavy, and she slowly wrapped her arms round his.

'Okay. But from now on, you focus on this, and only this, being at university. All of you.' She gave a sweeping glance at all their faces like she usually did with her class.

'Alright?'

'Alright.' They said in unison.

'Good.'

Sometimes she had to turn the teacher side of her on in these kind of moments, when they did stupid things and almost threw away everything they already had. Of course, she let boys be boys and didn't interfere with what they did, however much she approved of it or not, but when it came to their education she was firm that they got the best out of it. It was the only flaw practically living with a teacher. But she had grown an immense fondness to these boys, much like a sisterly love, and Eleven was happy she was so invested in them. They were good lads at heart and just like any typical twenty year old in the country looking for a good time, and she very much appreciated that. As she watched Nine eating a banana, Ten playing a game on his phone and Twelve striking a chord on his guitar, she realised just how much she was secretly glad thy cared so much for her and Eleven.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

'Could you just help me with this?' She asked, gesturing to her back.

Eleven walked up behind her, zipping up her dress. She held her hair up as his hands fumbled with the zip, and then she turned round. She was breathtaking, stunning, any remarkable word you could think of. He blinked as he took all of her in.

'You look absolutely beautiful.'

He moved in closer, wanting so much to touch her lips with his own. He held her round the waist, dipping her back just slightly and pressing a long kiss on her irresistible lips.

'You look so gorgeous.' He breathed, straightening her up.

'Thanks.' She said bashfully. Her eyelashes were long and bold, her eyebrows were perfect and her legs were flawless. The dress was blue and cut just above her knee, and which complimented her figure so well. She held her hair all to one side, and his first thought was 'sexy Bond girl.' He couldn't actually believe she was his, that such a beautiful creature would ever even go near someone like him.

'You look very dashing, too. Love the bow tie.'

He grinned. She pecked him on the lips.

'I'll see you down there.'

He smiled as he watched her go, shaking his head at the very thought of how lucky he was.

Adjusting the collar of his shirt, he checked on the others, and a few minutes later they were heading down the stairs to the hall, all of them dressed up in shirt and tie, even Twelve. Each of them had a girl on their arm, except Eleven. He wished at least he could dance once with her, but knew it wouldn't be possible. Of course people would notice. As they walked in, he scanned the room and there she was, standing by another teacher, a glass of wine in hand. He flashed her a smile, which she returned. Together they made their way to the food table, standing as a group as the music started thrumming through their hearts and the dance floor was slowly filling up. Ten was the first to offer Rose a dance, being the charming and gentlemanly person he was. They glided down the length of the hall, and Eleven smiled at how happy he looked with the blonde in his arms. He caught Clara staring at the pair too, and they exchanged wistful glances to one another. He wanted so badly to get closer to her. Nine rubbed his shoulder sympathetically as he took his own date to the dance floor. Twelve was busy eating, chatting to his girl about music. He watched his friends, drinking glass after glass of cider with the familiarity of a regular drinker. After all the slow songs had played and everyone came back to eat, the Christmas ones started. Eleven smiled at his brothers, and together they raced to the floor, jumping around like four year olds and singing along. It was like being at one of their parties again, feeling full of life and invincible. It was one of the best feelings in the world. They danced for four songs, waving arms in the air and creating their own rendition of each song with raucous singing. They stumbled back to their table, grabbing more drinks, eating more food.

By this time he was aching to talk to Clara, so he casually slid over to her side and started talking to her, nothing to arouse suspicion, but general conversation. Acting out this mutual talk they couldn't help but laugh, and as Clara secretly held onto his fingers, she leaned in and whispered, 'outside. No one will be there.'

He smiled, letting her walk away through the open doors to the grounds.

Five minutes later he walked outside too, meeting her behind a cluster of hedges. As soon as he reached her, she pulled him by the lapels of his jacket to kiss her wildly. He stepped in closer, prolonging the kiss and encircling her with his arms. They stared up at the sky, the moon shining down at them, Clara still holding into his lapels.

'We haven't got the chance in there, but we do out here. I've been wanting to dance with you all night.'

She smiled, her arms reaching up to wrap round his neck and his hands softly placed themselves to her waist. They began circling around the expanse of grass slowly, lit under the twinkling fires of stars. He whispered things to her, simple compliments and the repeated versions of 'you look beautiful' as he led them into a dance while pressing his lips to hers in the small enclosed space between them.

'We better get back.' She said, eyes closed against his chest as he gently rocked her from side to side.

'Hm, maybe.'

She smiled.

'That's what you always say.'

'It's because I want to be with you.'

'I do too, but for now, go enjoy yourself a bit more. I'll see you in bed.'

'Mm, keep the dress on. I'll enjoy taking that off tonight.'

She laughed, gave him one final kiss and watched him walk back to the building.

••••

The next morning, he woke up to find no one there except him and Clara. He rubbed his head in confusion, sitting up straight and observing the empty beds around the room.

What had happened last night?

And then it hit him. It had been the Christmas Dance, and they would have all gone up to the girls dorm instead of theirs, since him and Clara were there. He appreciated that they were still thinking about them and the safety of their secret relationship. Clara turned, groaning, and he laughed. Sinking back down he wrapped a long arm over her bare body, resting his head next to hers.

'Oh shit.' She suddenly said.

'What? What's the matter?' He leaned over her small frame. Her hands went to her head and he could feel her heart beating faster.

'I completely forgot.'

'What is it?'

She turned to stare at him.

'I think someone saw me come up the stairs to you're room.'


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

'Wait, what? Who saw you?'

'I don't know but I knew they were there. Oh god, what have I done?' Her head fell into her hands in despair. Eleven touched her shoulder, turning her round to face him.

'You haven't done anything, okay? Don't worry about it, Clara, please.' He said, welcoming her into his arms and nuzzling her hair with his nose.

'It is something to worry about, it's my job! No, actually it's my life, if anyone finds out that I've been sleeping with you my arse would be thrown straight into prison.'

'But I wouldn't let anyone do that.' He comforted her, kissing her head and remaining calm.

'I didn't like the idea of telling you're friends either, at least until I'd got to known them properly. What's to say they wouldn't tell somebody? Anyone?'

'Because I trust them, and they won't tell anyone, I promise.' He wrapped her up and sunk lower into bed, yet she wasn't having none of it. She didn't want his comfort or reassurances.

'Just look at me now, in you're bed, naked, at university, like some pathetic schoolgirl. I'm supposed to be your teacher.' She emphasised, her hands still covered with her hands.

'Hey, hey, don't get het up about it. We can make this, alright? You and me, together. If anyone saw you, I'll find out and sort it.'

'I just never wanted it to get this complicated,' she replied, as he rubbed her back soothingly, 'I attract awkward situations. My whole life's one. My birth was just an awkward, unnecessary situation.'

'Shh, come on, don't talk like that. You are everything to me and that won't change. Stop downgrading yourself, and never say you're life was an accident. Hey,' he said, lifting up her chin to look at him, 'stop it.'

'It keeps getting more complicated though, first with the lies and being caught and having to deal with a huge amount of shit that I just shouldn't bother with. I can never find happiness without a price, never.'

'Are you having doubts?'

She sighed frustratedly.

'No, not about you or us at all, I don't have a doubt about our relationship or you. It's myself I'm having doubts with.'

'Please stop, Clara, you're beautiful and amazing and I want you to think positive. If anything happens, we'll work something out. But for now, lay back down and fall asleep with me while we still can.'

She obeyed, sliding down until his arm circled her waist and she could feel his breath on her neck.

'What if someone saw me, though?'

'I...I don't know, Clara. I guess we'll just have to hope they didn't see or were too drunk to.'

It didn't settle her mind, but she allowed herself to drift back to sleep, even though the lines of frustration hadn't cleared on her head and her worries had been refreshed anew.

••••

When they finally got up and started the day, Clara still hadn't forgotten. It had been unrecognisable as a face, but definitely there; a shadow lurking in the doorway, watching her walk up the stairs tiredly and enter the room. She carried this memory when Eleven kissed her goodbye, and when she had breakfast. She held it anxiously as she strode through the corridors and worked away the next two lessons. It was keeping her alert, so much so that she winced instinctively when she saw Danny across the hall, raising his hands innocently but like he was about to hit her again.

It was making her so nervous, so cautious, so insecure. To be honest she didn't really care about what happened to her anymore; she cared about Eleven and how it would impact him. She didn't even know where he lived or who his parents were, if he had brothers and sisters and whether he was a long way from home or not. But it felt like she had known him forever, like he had always been there, apart of her soul and it was only now that he had formed to flesh.

Clara was also mentally slapping herself for not saying it. Those three words she had promised herself she would tell him but never did. It wasn't because she was scared or anything, the moment just never felt right to her. She could have told him plenty of times, most obviously the Christmas dance where they had been exposed to the night sky and danced under the stars. It was thrilling and romantic and the perfect set up for what she wanted to say, yet she still hadn't said anything. Maybe she had been too caught up in the moment, or sidetracked. She could've told him a number of times when they were having sex, but that also felt wrong, like it wouldn't sound the way she meant it. To him it would probably only mean that she loved his hair or his body or the sounds he made. No, she was still waiting for a perfect moment, but she was fearing one wouldn't come in time.

••••

'What are you thinking?' He asked, stroking her arm.

Turning to stare in his eyes, she answered, 'about how beautiful you are.'

She smiled that dreamy, irresistible smile he only gave to her and which she craved most after a long days work.

'Great minds think alike.'

She sniggered. 'You narcissist.'

'No, not about me, about you. Always about you.'

'Shouldn't you be doing you're homework?'

'Stop with the teacher act right now, it's off putting.'

'Not letting you carry on if you haven't completed it.'

'Ugh, why?'

'You really want me to explain?' She raised her eyebrows.

'Just five more minutes.' He murmured, still playing with her tongue as he kissed her further.

'No!' She laughed, pushing him off her.

'Get to work, come on.'

He grinned.

'Yes, miss.'

He lunged atop her while she laughed harder at his actions.

'I meant the work, not me.'

'Same thing, isn't it?'

She slapped him playfully.

With reluctance he slowly crawled off her, and she giggled at his noticeable crotch that he hadn't yet seen.

'What?'

'Nothing.' She stifled her laughter as he turned away, sitting down at a desk with papers sprawled everywhere on it.

'Well, I'm just going to go downstairs for a minute.' She told him, kissing his hair and wearing a smile.

'Don't be long.' He called.

'Oh, I won't.'

Opening the door and walking down the stairs, it was there she was stopped.

'Why are you up there, Miss?'

A student of hers blocked her pathway, demanding an answer. Clara's smile vanished instantly.

'I was just, uh, handing in some work for Eleven to do. He has to catch up with it.'

'Prove it.'

'What?'

'I said, prove it.'

'You don't talk to a teacher like that, it's disrespectful. And it's none of you're business.'

'It might not be mine, but it could be someone else's, like the police.'

'Are you threatening me?' She asked incredulously.

'No. I'm merely suggesting you should give me proof of why you were up there.'

'I'm allowed to go up there, I'm staff.'

'I'm not sure you were supposed to be up there at night.'

Clara froze, her eyes widened. Someone had seen her, and now that someone was demanding evidence of her not-so-innocent innocence.

'Fine.'

And she lead her up to the door, knocking nervously.

'It's me, Miss Oswald.' She swallowed.

'What?'

She opened the door, where Eleven was still at the desk. The student wondered in, arms crossed.

'What's this about?'

'I was just telling this girl that I had just come up here two minutes previously to deliver work. She stopped me on the stairs.'

The words hit Eleven instantly, realising the situation and thankfully playing along.

'Yeah, look, I'm doing it right now.'

'What about the other night? I saw Miss up here.' The girl asked.

'She was delivering another set for my friends, and helped me a bit with the questions.'

'So, why haven't you come to any other dorms with work?' She turned to Clara.

'Eleven specifically e-mailed me about it and on behalf of his friends.'

She only shook her head, a smug smile on her face.

'You're excuses are pathetic. I've seen you come up here every day and stay up here til morning. Oh, and I also saw you kissing outside, the night of the dance. You really should be more careful about secret affairs and who sees you and who don't. So, I can easily tell anyone about this, and news would get round. Or, you can choose to mark my work up regardless if it's quality and I'll keep it to myself. I don't know if anyone else had seen you two together but this is is what in offering you.'

Clara wanted to jump out of a window. She was so careless and reckless age stupid.

'I can't cheat you're exams, it's not fair.'

'Then you deal with the consequences.'

'We're both consenting adults!' Eleven cut in.

'Yeah, but a teacher and a student though? Bit gross. Plus, the boys who also sleep here must be either very oblivious or creeped out.'

'They understand. And there's only seven years between us.'

'It's still scandal enough to make front page in papers.'

Eleven tried to interject again, but Clara stopped him.

'Okay, fine. I'll mark you up.' She sighed defeatedly.

With a satisfactory and sickening smile she pranced out the room until Clara and Eleven were alone.

She couldn't believe she was doing this. She was going against every rule set against teachers just to protect herself from an embarrassing and exposing truth. She was a cheat and a filthy liar that hadn't been careful enough at all. She had been so worried that Eleven's friends would tell someone that set hadn't even considered what else could happen. It was all such a mess, and she finally felt tears of rage burn at her eyelids and spill hotly down her cheeks. It was anger at herself, and no one else. Pure, unadulterated hatred for what she had done and who she was. Collapsing to the floor uncontrollably she saw Eleven's shocked and concerned face loom above her and told him pityingly.

'I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry.'

••••

Clara was even more cautious now, and every time she walked anywhere around school she felt like they all knew inside, laughing at her when her back was turned and telling others how completely grotesque it was that a student was in a relationship with a teacher. Even Eleven couldn't comfort her any longer, and she had even slept as far apart as she could from him in her shame, which he really didn't like. It all felt like it was crashing down around her, a few weeks of bliss and then a tidal wave of beatings from her own past actions brought her down again like twisted karma. Maybe she just wasn't made to be in a relationship, maybe she wasn't made to find happiness, but help others instead with their futures that she couldn't care less about after they'd gone out and into the harsh world. She wasn't being vain and feeling sorry for herself, but she really didn't know what she had done to deserve this. Everything she had been through, and at what price? How she wished she had never indulged herself in his charms and his eyes, how she wished she should have never got involved, never suggested tuition, never kissed him back. She didn't regret any of it, but if it came down to consequences, then to her she had ruined his life just because she couldn't control her emotions.

'Do you want to talk about it?' He had asked at night, knowing she was awake.

'No, I just want to try and get to sleep.' She had replied. It was hard not to crawl back into his inviting arms but she couldn't do it. The damage had already been done.

••••

Halfway through dinner, his phone had beeped with the notification of a text. He had recently been so worried for Clara and so frantic about their relationship becoming public he had hardly focused on his work. She was so torn up and guilty she wouldn't even let him hold her at night and hardly said anything cheerful. She was clearly distressed, and Ten, Nine and Twelve had guessed it too. Everything was spiralling out of control and he wished it would just stop. So that was why he was even more worried when he received a message from Clara telling him to meet her outside round the hedges, the same ones they had danced behind and had not been as discreet as they'd thought.

Standing up immediately amongst the cried of people he left.

'Where you going?' Twelve asked.

'Don't worry.'

Striding out of the hall he practically ran to the hedges, where she was waiting. It was fairly dusky with a few smatterings of stars here and there and Clara had never looked so beautiful in the twilight. Staring at her concerned face he immediately felt cold shivers run up and down his body.

'Clara, are you okay?'

'I need to tell you something.'

Eleven searched her guilty and anxious features, his own forming identically. She was standing a little distance apart and it made him nervous. The wind whipped through his hair, if a little sharply but his voice cut through clearly.

'What's wrong?'


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

She was silent for a moment longer, and Eleven could see she was struggling. Whatever it was, he sincerely hoped it wasn't bad news. Anything but bad. He wanted to step in closer and touch her comfortingly, yet knew she wouldn't appreciate it. He could sense that it was on her lips but she couldn't form the words.

'Clara...'

'Please don't freak or run away or do something stupid, okay?'

'Of course not.'

She exhaled a long breath, eyes twinkling with what he thought at first were tears but couldn't be. She looked stressed and alarmed and shocked but tried to keep his thoughts positive in the long drawn-out pause that followed. Time seemed to pass extra slowly.

'Eleven...I...I've completely fucked up.'

Her words didn't reassure him. Clara looked so out of focus and wild that it scared him.

'I'm pregnant.'

All he could do was stand and stare at her. His heart stopped beating, his blood pounded in his ears and his whole body was stone still. She looked so guiltily at him it hurt, but his thoughts still couldn't fully process what she had said. An even longer silence ensued, where Clara was growing even more uneasy by the minute.

'I'm so sorry, Eleven. God, I'm so fucking sorry. I'm so stupid and inconsiderate and fucked up.'

Finally he managed to bring forth coherent words, but his voice trembled this time. His heartbeat still hadn't returned and he felt suddenly like he was in a dream.

'What?'

He couldn't comprehend it, yet knew it wasn't exactly impossible she would be in this state.

'I...I don't know what to say.' He said incredulously, a nervous laugh embedded into his words as he finally stepped toward her, grasping her wrist and staring into those enrapturing, whirlwind eyes.

'You're...happy?'

'I'm shocked. I'm so fucking shocked.'

'I can't tell you how sorry I am. How much I hate myself right now.'

'No, don't hate yourself. It happened, and now it's going to change things. But I'm fine with this. If it means I'm going to be a father I'm completely amazed.'

'No, Eleven you don't understand how serious this is! We've already been found out, and what's going to happen when I suddenly get bigger and start to show? Everyone's going to know it's yours and I don't have any other excuses to give. You have to listen to me. I know I'm always going on about losing my job, but now because I'm having a baby I can't care about it. I have to quit as soon as I can and get out of here. I came to say goodbye.'

'N-no! No, you can't do that,' he cried, stroking her face with his thumb, 'you can't just tell me I'm the father of you're child and then disappear. That's not going to happen, not over my dead and lifeless body. If you were saying goodbye, why did you even think that telling me would be a remotely good idea?'

'Because you don't deserve any more lies.' She said simply.

'Please, you can't do this-'

'I have to! You need to concentrate on your education, become a person of this world, live happily. You deserve all these things, a nice job, a nice house, everything. I'm not letting you throw away everything just because of me!'

She shouted.

'I don't want anything else! I don't want any of this, believe me, all I want and all I need is you, and now we have a beautiful baby to care for. I don't want to be anything but yours. There's no way in hell I'm leaving you.'

'Eleven, this is crazy! You can't just do this, drop our of you're education like it doesn't matter and come with me! What about you're friends, you're family?!'

'My friends will have to understand, and even if they don't, tough. As for family, I'm an orphan, but even if I did have parents, they'd have to deal with it. I want to be with you.'

'I can't believe this,' she sighed incredulously, 'you'd give up everything...for me?' Her voice trailed off into a disbelieving whisper, staring at him like he was out of his mind.

'In a heartbeat.'

She stared at him, his eyes betraying nothing but love and unconditional devotion, and she was the luckiest person alive to be with him.

'I love you.' She whispered sincerely. And then she kissed him, one that conveyed every ounce of her love for him. It was very different from others, so tender and beautiful and loving, so much more than usual kisses they shared. He couldn't believe she had told him that. It only confirmed for him how much he loved her in return.

Finally drawing away, foreheads touching, he smiled and wiped away a tear from her cheek.

'I love you too.' He said back, and he could feel the jolt that ran through her body at his words. His hands slid down to her stomach, placing a hand over it like he could already feel a heartbeat there.

'We can do this. We can go anywhere, we can start a life. You just need to know I'm not leaving you, and I never will. I love you.'

She opened her eyes to look at him. 'Where do we go?'

'Australia.'

'What?!'

'Trust me. Australia. I've always wanted to go there. In fact, I was going to go after I'd finished uni.'

'We don't have enough money. I've only got the hundreds I saved up.'

'Well, I've been saving up for a car for a while, so I've got around a grand. That should be enough, shouldn't it? I'll get a job as soon as we get there and support us. We can work this out.'

'You are crazy. You're actually giving us all this money which you probably spent years trying to save up. What's wrong with you?'

'I couldn't give a fuck about a stupid car. You, no one else, Clara.'

She shook her head flatteringly, leaning into him.

'When should we go? You should at least finish this term. I'll still be capable to teach, I wouldn't be showing yet.'

'Now.' He cut across, smiling.

'What?'

'Now. Let's go now. Clara Oswald...elope with me.' He took her small hand in his, drawing encouraging circles on the back of it.

Her mouth broke into an irreplaceable and heart-stopping smile.

'Let's go.' She told him, and he picked her up, spinning her round and round the place until they both felt dizzy. Kissing her one more time, he took her hand and together they ran toward the building.

••••

Clara had agreed to it. She couldn't quite believe it herself. It had come as a massive shock when she found out she was with child, and had worried about it endlessly since. And finally, she had gotten her moment to say it, and what a moment it was. It had been the perfect time to tell him, and even more unprecedented was him telling her the same thing back. She was overwhelmingly touched and heartfelt when he told her he'd give up everything, that he wanted to be the father of her child and had proposed they leave straight away. It was one of her weakness', men who ran away with women into the night, which she loved reading in books. And right now, she was in her own fantasy.

Rushing up the stairs together hand in hand, they burst into their room. Not stopping to even acknowledge anyone else they began collecting their things together.

'Uh, what are you doing?' Twelve asked.

Eleven turned round, a comprehending look on his face. She knew he was trying to think of what to say that would explain everything.

'Guys, uh...it's been great. Really, I've enjoyed every minute of it. I'm going to miss you a lot.'

'What the hell are you talking about?' Ten asked.

'Look, long story short, we're leaving. Me and Clara. We probably won't even return to this place, maybe not even England. I just want to let you know that I love you all, my brothers.'

'What? Where are you going?'

'Uhm...Australia.' He confirmed, picking up a bag.

'Australia? You're going all the way to Australia?' Nine said.

'Yes.'

'What the fuck? You can't just drop out on all this, and us.'

'Exactly what I told him.' Clara interjected.

'Why are you doing this?'

'Because it's the right thing to do.'

'Huh. Australian babies after all then, mate.' Twelve said, clapping him on the shoulder.

Eleven froze as Clara did, not moving, not saying a word in reply. It was only coincidence he had mentioned it but the topic voiced aloud made them stop in their tracks.

They looked at their alarmed faces, and comprehension soon dawned on their faces.

'No way,' he said, looking from one to the other in shock, 'no fucking way.'

He sighed, looking round at Clara, who was paused in midair, staring at them all.

'Oh my god.' Ten contributed.

Neither said anything, but let it hang open in the air.

'Message us, yeah?' Nine asked, patting his shoulder.

'Of course. Keep you up to date.'

The boys helped them pack, which was immensely sweet of them. Clara would miss these guys too, they had been so generous and funny and all round brilliant people to her.

'I'll miss being taught English by you.' Nine told her.

She smiled. 'I will too, Nine.'

Once they were all done, a heavy silence settled down upon them, in which Eleven embraced his friends in a tight group hug.

They all patted him on the shoulder in turn, giving him their wishes of good luck. And then they unexpectedly turned to her, Ten being the first. He embraced her and it was so heartwarming she had to contain tears.

'Stay safe, Clara.'

'I will, thank you.'

Nine almost lifted her up when he wrapped arms round her, and she couldn't help laughter escape her.

Even Twelve moved forward to embrace her awkwardly, yet as he withdrew he planted a kiss on her cheek.

'Don't let him play rugby.' He winked.

'I won't.' She chuckled.

Clara looked at Eleven, her fingers twitching for his to hold them. He obliged, folding them in his own.

'I just want to say how thankful I am for your friendship and your support. You've been amazing to me.'

'It was our pleasure.' Nine told her genuinely.

She smiled one last time at them, and then they walked out together, her heart beating faster with every second. He looked down at her, his gaze fixed.

'Ready?'

She nodded slowly. 'Ready.'

They climbed her motorbike, riding the way to the airport. She didn't want to sell it, but of course she couldn't take it with her. They made a quick exchange of enough money, and soon enough they were on the aeroplane. He kissed her encouragingly as the plane took off, holding her close. She held his hand that rested over her stomach, squeezing it gently as they looked out of the open window at the expanse of sky ahead of them.

A/N - It was unexpected, but it was always going to happen!


	17. Chapter 17

Last Chapter! Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, followed and favourited this story, and I hope you enjoyed it. :)

Chapter 17

 **Four Years Later, Australia**

Eleven entered the room, instantly wrapping his arms across her chest and kissing her cheek.

'How are you today?'

'Feeling better.'

'Good.'

'Shouldn't you be teaching some students?' She asked him, pinging the black braces he wore.

'You know how it is. Tiring, effort, uncontrollable. And you taught uni students, not high school students. There's a heavy and very unsophisticated difference between the two. Plus, I want to stay here with my gorgeous wife. There's much better things to do.'

He kissed the side of her neck while his hands followed the curves of her body, and she smiled.

'Is there really?'

In answer, he turned her fully round and kissed her forcefully, holding her hips and pushing her down on their bed.

'Why would you even want to do this again? I'm surprised you're not bored of me yet.'

'I could never get bored of you, you're beautiful.' He muttered against her skin, pressing butterfly kisses from her neck to her chest, surrounding her on all fours. She played with his floppy hair while he slid his braces down and began to undress her.

'Hey, what if Oscar comes in?'

'He won't.'

'Come on, Eleven, you're already late for work. I won't be going anywhere.' She laughed, only slightly pushing him away.

'I'm sorry you're just too attractive.'

'Stop flirting with me, and put you're clothes back on.' She ordered him, straightening him up as he made a reluctant face.

'You always were clingy.'

'Any man would be.'

She shook her head at him, wondering how she could even deserve him. Even after four years he was still capable of surprising her and flattering her completely.

'Ten's invitation came this morning.'

'Oh, lovely, I'm so happy for him and Rose.'

'Yeah,' he said, placing his arms round her neck, 'the wedding takes place in two weeks.'

'Do you have the money?'

'Of course. Twelve will be there with his new girlfriend. Apparently he's thinking of marrying her too.'

She raised her eyebrows, 'really? Twelve?'

'Yeah. Wouldn't have thought he was the marrying type, but he must really love this girl.'

'What about Nine?'

'He said he's travelling at the moment, with Jack, as it happens. He'll make the wedding too.'

'It'll be nice to see everyone. We should invite them over here again for a week or two.'

'Yeah, that's a good idea.'

Her arms were now wrapped round his waist, only partially conscious of the time, which she ignored.

'Where's my boy?' He asked suddenly, and she smiled.

'Watching television.'

Letting go and stepping out the room he greeted a young boy with dark hair and an impish grin identical to his father's.

'G'day, Oscar.'

'G'day, daddy!' He exclaimed in reply, as Eleven scooped him up in his arms. Clara watched them proudly.

'Your Australian accent has never improved.' She told him.

'My cooking has though.'

'Yeah, that's true.'

'I think I should get to school now, then.' He said, kissing Oscar's head and setting him down.

Placing a long kiss to her lips he embraced her again.

'I'll see you later. And get some rest Clara, okay?' He patted her bump gently and she smiled.

'Fine. I love you.'

'Love you too.' He said, kissing her softly once more.

He walked out their apartment, and she could faintly hear the sound of his motorbike rev it's engine. She looked down at the bump concealing her unborn daughter, and a growing smile spread on her face. Everything was so perfect, it amazed her she was even in this position four years later. Clara still remembered the boy she had seen walk into her classroom, and as she stared at her son she couldn't help thinking about that night they had escaped, the night that had changed her life remarkably for the better. She would treasure the day she had met and fell in love with John Smith forever.


End file.
